


Silence, and Space, and Strangers

by Unsentimentalf



Series: One Small Change [2]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:39:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unsentimentalf/pseuds/Unsentimentalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything on  Liberator was going just fine for Tarrant. Why couldn't it just stay that way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coincidences Happen

Tarrant walked through the hotel foyer with a casual stride. He barely spared a glance for the bar area and the group of men and women surrounded by armed bodyguards. 

He was so busy being casual that he nearly walked into the man coming the other way. He dodged and nodded a slight apology. The man’s eyes didn’t even flicker. Tarrant kept going, with a single glance back as he went out of the doors then round to the alley at the side of the building. Then, with slightly shaking hands, he clipped on the teleport bracelet and returned to the ship.

“Was he there?” Blake demanded. 

Tarrant had to think for a moment. “Marfen? Yes. With entourage but without his captive.”

“Good. We can go ahead, then.” Blake frowned. “Is there a problem?”

Tarrant was so tempted to say no. It would be so easy; all they were doing here was recovering an ally who had been kidnapped by the local pirates. With Marfen and his people on planet there should be little resistance to the raid on the ship. They wouldn’t need to set foot on the planet which meant that no-one would see what Tarrant had seen. They could just fly away and nothing need change.

Instead he took a deep breath. “Avon’s there,” he told Blake. 

“What? On the planet?” Blake looked bewildered. 

“In the bar.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Tarrant said. “It was Avon. I nearly walked into him.”

“Did he... no, he’s never met you. Was he there to meet Marfen?”

“I don’t know. He went to sit by himself. It would be a bit of a huge coincidence otherwise though.” 

“Coincidences happen,” Blake said, distractedly. “I’ve got to see him.”

“You can’t go down there,” Tarrant pointed out. “Marfen’s got his people out to shoot you on sight. We’ll have to wait until he’s alone.”

“That could be too late.” Blake said. “I can’t do anything until I speak to him.”

“I could take him a message,” Tarrant suggested. “Or a bracelet.” 

“Do that,” Blake said. “Do it now.”

 

Tarrant bought himself a drink then went to sit opposite Avon. “Hi there,” he started.

“Ah,” Avon said. “The clumsy young man from the foyer. I was wondering when you’d turn up again. What do you want?”

“You can put that away.” Tarrant nodded at the almost hidden gleam of metal. “I’m a friend.”

“I don’t have so many friends that I forget them,” Avon said. “I’d have remembered you. Again, what do you want?”

“I’ve got a message. From an old friend.”

“Another friend? A giddy social whirl. What is this message?”

“He’d very much like to talk to you. I brought you an invitation.” Tarrant slid the spare bracelet across the table. “I believe you know how they work?”

Avon didn’t so much as glance at the bracelet. He was smiling now, the humour clearly not intended to be shared. “If you want to hold out for the dramatic reveal,” he told Tarrant, “you should probably not do it while wearing one of my old jackets. I knew you the instant you stumbled into me, Del Tarrant.” 

He reached out, still without looking down, and scooped the bracelet into his pocket. “What does Blake think he’s doing here?”

“He can tell you that.”

“Not now. I’m too busy to socialise. Tell Blake that I won’t take it kindly if his operations jeopardise mine.”

Tarrant had half expected arrogance but this was breathtaking. “You have operations, do you? And here was I thinking you’d just managed to get yourself lost for all this time.” 

Avon considered him. “You might do better letting Blake continue to do your thinking for you. Stick to flying.” He pushed his empty glass aside. “Tell Blake he’s got two hours for whatever it is he’s planning. After that he will find it healthier for Liberator to be elsewhere. This system is likely to be swarming with Federation ships.”

“And what about you? When can I tell him he’ll see you?”

Avon patted the bulge in his pocket. “I’ll let him know if I need him. I’d advise him not to hang around waiting. Two hours, remember.” He pushed his chair back and walked out. 

 

Tarrant had never seen Blake actually distraught before. It had been hours now and he showed no signs of subsiding.

They’d carried out the raid, returned the rebel to her group and hung around in the outermost part of the system to see what would happen next. What happened next was a Federation warship and a whole flotilla of pursuit ships heading in-system. There really was no choice but to leave before they were spotted. 

Avon hadn’t contacted them. He might have left the system, he might still be there. Liberator couldn’t stay within transporter range and there was no way of knowing when it might be safe to go back.

“What am I meant to do?” Blake stormed. “Just fly away as if nothing had happened? What the hell is he playing at? One call, that’s all it would take. One! You’re sure the bracelet was working?”

“It was working perfectly,” Tarrant said, for the hundredth time. 

“And it was Avon? You’re sure?”

“He told me I was wearing his old clothes, Blake! Yes of course it was Avon. He just didn’t want to come.” 

“Why not?”

“I have absolutely no idea. Maybe because he’s Avon. Look, Blake. We’ve been up for four shifts straight. There’s nothing at all that we can do for the moment. Just come to bed, please.”

When he did persuade Blake under the covers it was not much better. Blake lay there, motionless but tense and still clearly subvocalising his indignation. 

Tarrant stroked his back in what was intended to be a soothing sort of way, but he had his own concerns. He didn’t want to set Blake off again but he needed to talk about the encounter to somebody. Eventually he murmured in the other man’s ear, hoping that low volume would make Blake less likely to react badly. 

“He knew my name.”

Blake rolled over to face him. “That’s hardly surprising. You’ve got quite a reputation these days.” 

“That’s what worries me. How much does he know?”

“What does it matter? He’s unlikely to arrest you for crimes against the Federation.”

“That’s not really the sort of thing I was worried about,” Tarrant said. 

“So what is?”

“Well, this, I suppose.” He ran a hand down Blake’s familiar bare chest.

Blake snorted, a sudden, welcome release of tension. “Heavens, Del, I don’t think Avon cares who I sleep with!”

It had been a long time since Tarrant had watched those video clips of Avon with Blake but he hadn’t forgotten any of them. He wasn’t nearly as sanguine about Avon’s likely indifference but he could tell that there was no point trying to convince Blake of that.

Whatever Avon thought, he wasn’t here. Tarrant suspected that Avon would not be found again unless he wanted to be. That suited him fine. The last nine months had showed that the Liberator didn’t need Kerr Avon, and from the little that Avon had let slip it seemed that he didn’t need Blake. With any luck Avon would disappear, Blake would look for him for a while then give up and everything would go back to the perfectly satisfactory state of affairs that it had been before this unfortunate encounter. 

The thought cheered Tarrant and he rolled a little closer, his fingers smoothing across Blake’s back. “Try to get some sleep,” he suggested. “You’ll figure out what to do in the morning.” 

 

Blake’s search was nothing if not comprehensive. Over the next six weeks they did their best to hunt down every single ship that had left the Maris System after Tarrant’s meeting with Avon. None of them admitted to any contact with the missing man. When the Federation cruiser finally moved away Liberator went back and got involved in a nasty little skirmish with the remaining pursuit ships that Tarrant felt they had been lucky to escape with only minor damage. Cally and Dayna teleported down to the planet during the fighting itself and were recovered during an equally brutal dogfight two days later but the risks were in vain; no-one had reported seeing Avon since the night of the Federation invasion. Attempting to raise the bracelet Tarrant had given to Avon got no response; it might be out of range or just ignored. 

In the end Tarrant had to let himself be chased out of the system by the Federation ships, and Blake reluctantly conceded that there was no gain in risking everything in going back. Kerr Avon had vanished. 

 

Once every six days or so Liberator’s shift timetable resulted, theoretically at least, in both Blake and Tarrant having twelve hours off shift together. Most of the time “off shift” wasn’t actually relevant because they were in the middle of something that required either Blake’s command or Tarrant’s piloting or more usually both but every so often they found themselves both genuinely at leisure with enough time to catch up on sleep and then a few more hours for themselves on top. 

Tarrant would wake slowly on those mornings, Blake still snoring gently beside him, the timepiece promising hours of having the man all to himself. He’d check in quietly with Zen, make sure that there was nothing looming to ruin his idyll, then slide out of bed, wrap a dressing gown around him and make his way down to the galley to pick up a tray of hot coffee and breakfast. Blake was usually still asleep by the time he returned, but the smell of food would wake him quickly enough. It was a peculiarity of Blake’s, or so Tarrant considered it, that he liked having sex after breakfast rather than before. Tarrant had soon decided that it was worth the wait. 

That morning they were eating some sweet pastry things which went rather well with the bitter coffee. Tarrant had moved up so that his skin was against Blake’s from hip to foot, the warmth of the contact a promise of better to come. He knew better than to try and distract Blake from the food; he’d just be told off for fidgeting. He knew he’d have all of the man’s attention soon enough. 

Eventually Blake leaned over to put his empty plate on the floor. “Now,” he said, his voice amused and fond, “What do you think we should do next?”

Tarrant rolled on top of him, their legs intertwined. “Discuss political philosophy?” He kissed Blake’s neck. “Organise the Revolution?”

Blake laughed, his arms sliding around Tarrant’s waist. “Am I really that dull?” 

“You’re perfect.” Tarrant told him. “Though I don’t know what the Revolution is going to make of your habit of sleeping with ex-Federation officers.”

“The Revolution can mind its own bloody business.” Blake was clearly getting distracted from the conversation as Tarrant started to move against him. 

There wasn’t any more conversation for the next twenty minutes or so. The next voice was unexpected and in Tarrant’s view very ill-timed.

_Encrypted message, source unknown._

“Zen, shut up!” Tarrant said, rather desperately.

“Del,” Blake said from below him. “It might be urgent.”

It couldn’t possibly be as urgent as Tarrant felt right then. “One minute,” he told Blake. It wasn’t going to take even that long. 

Blake politely co-operated but Tarrant rather felt that he’d lost the man’s undivided attention. The instant after he came, Blake shifted onto his elbows, reached up to kiss him in a warm but rushed manner and said “Zen, decrypt and play message.” 

_Hello, Blake. I gather you’ve been looking for me._

Tarrant’s disengagement became rather jerky and Blake twitched. “Sorry,” he said, but Blake wasn’t listening to him. 

_I find your lack of commitment a little disappointing, though. You might recall that some people waited their entire lives for my coming. You seem to have given up after a few weeks. If you still want to talk to me, you should know where to find me._

_Message ends_

“What the hell does that lot mean,” Tarrant demanded. 

“Cephlon.” Blake said. He climbed off the bed and started dressing. “It means we’ll find him on Cephlon.” 

“Oh good,” Tarrant said with a complete lack of enthusiasm, but as he’d rather expected his lover didn’t even notice. Two hours of his morning in bed with Blake, Kerr Avon now owed him. Tarrant suspected it would be merely the first of many such calculations.

“I’m taking a shower,” he told Blake. Wherever Cephlon was it could wait ten minutes. 

“Yes, you do that.” Blake waved a royally permissive hand. “I’ll be on the flight deck.”

 

It wasn’t the first time they’d been interrupted, of course. Tarrant had always taken a certain pleasure on these occasions in watching Blake on the flight deck, clothes rumpled and skin (invisible but he knew) unwashed, being as scrupulously even handed about treating Tarrant like the others as he always tried to be in the middle of operations. 

Not this time. This wasn’t in Tarrant’s view an emergency at all and they ought to still be in bed. Whatever Avon was doing on Cephlon would doubtless wait a couple of hours, or even a day or two. 

Still, if Blake wanted to go to Cephlon it was his job to take Liberator there. Just not unquestioningly.

“What if it’s a trap?”

Blake barely glanced at him, his attention instead on the screen. He was trying to get some up-to-date information on their new destination. “It isn’t. Only Avon or Jenna could have sent that message. No-one else knew. It’s Avon all right. Don’t worry.”

“That wasn’t entirely my point,” Tarrant said. “What if it’s a trap set by Avon? Who, as I seem to recall you telling me once, wants Liberator.”

Blake did look up at him then. “No,” he said, thoughtfully. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so? Well that’s reassuring.” 

“It isn’t a trap,” Blake said, more firmly. 

“I’m glad you’re so sure. Can we at least try to behave as if we think it might be?”

He glanced around to the others for support.

“Tarrant’s got a point,” Vila said. “Avon’s definitely behaving oddly. I know it’s Avon, but still.”

Cally nodded. “Avon wouldn’t mean us any harm, I’m sure. But it wouldn’t do any harm to be careful. He might be acting under duress.” Dayna just shrugged.

Blake sighed. “All right, Tarrant. I’m officially appointing you as devil’s advocate on this one. You can tell me if you think we’re taking unnecessary risks. But we are going to Cephlon, and I am going to see him. That much is non negotiable.”


	2. Truth to Power

There was no record of anyone visiting Cephlon since the Liberator had left nearly two years before. They crept into the system, scans at maximum, and found no ships in orbit, nothing on the ground. 

Blake insisted on teleporting down to the old control bunker, loaded up with anti radiation meds. Tarrant had to stay behind in case the Federation somehow attacked. They didn’t. The station was empty. 

Three weeks they stayed, while Blake quartered the ground, keeping the not at all happy natives at bay. 

“They’ve no reason to welcome us,” Cally said. “After all we’ve brought them nothing.” 

Blake would have liked to find something to bring them but they would do nothing but attack. With the guns set at stun he managed to avoid killing any of them but Tarrant could tell how the endless violence was wearing him down. They found no trace of any other visitors. 

 

“Blake.” Tarrant spoke into the communicator.

“You’ve got something?” Blake’s voice sounded instantly hopeful. 

“Not Avon, no. But you need to come up and see this.”

“Acknowledged. Teleport me up.”

The entire group was on the flight deck, quiet and sombre. As Blake came in Tarrant said. “Zen, replay clip.”

The familiar deep voice of the Federation newscaster came on over a blurred video feed.

“A rebel raid six days ago on Upsilon 5 research station, which specialises in hydroponic techniques left 4 brave and committed scientists dead.” Close up pictures showed corpses in lab coats lying on the floor. “Federation troops retook the station and four remaining pirates were captured.”

“Zen, enhance and enlarge picture” Tarrant said. The blurry figures resolved into people in chains being shoved along by troops with blasters. Now it was clear that they were wearing the same lab uniform as the dead scientists. 

“The Federation Council have expressed their gratitude at the prompt and efficient troop action and their continuing resolve to ensure that rebels are never allowed to jeopardise the lives of Federation citizens by disruption of peaceful scientific programmes.”

Blake had leaned forward, his head in his hands. Eventually he looked up at Tarrant, the skin around his eyes dark. Tarrant made a mental note to insist that he checked his radiation levels again. “You think he sold us out?”

”Upsilon 5 was your plan,” Tarrant said. “If we hadn’t come here we would have been there weeks ago. We could have pulled the scientists who had contacted us off and blown the entire weapons facility. Now because we came here- because he got us to come here- it’s too late.”

Blake looked grim. “Let me think.” The others waited.

Finally Blake raised his head again. “It’s not important enough,” he said.

Dayna gestured at the frozen screen and the bodies. “How can you say that?”

“Think about it. Avon has the power to draw Liberator anywhere in the galaxy, and he uses it keeping us out of the way while the Federation mop up a dozen rebel scientists whom apparently they already knew about and not incidentally making us suspicious as hell. Cephlon could have been a perfect trap for me and Liberator but there’s no trap here. Instead it’s just a distraction. The Federation could have had Liberator and it chooses to raid a minor weapons facility instead. Does that make sense to you?”

“So you think it’s what? A coincidence?” Tarrant asked.

“Another one? I find that hard to believe. Still, I find it even harder to believe that the Federation has known that we’re here for three weeks and has left us alone.” 

He reached across and took Tarrant’s hand, a rare gesture on the flight deck. “Del. I know you think I’m biassed, and I don’t expect you to take my word for it when I say that Avon would never work for the Federation. But you should at least believe me when I say that he would never do so this incompetently. Avon knows we’re here. The Federation doesn’t. What does that mean?”

“I really can’t tell you,” Tarrant said. “But Avon’s not coming. I think we’d be idiots not to get out of here while we can.”

 

Tarrant walked quietly through the still ship. He had persuaded Blake and the others to go to bed hours ago - only a pilot was needed to get Liberator to the hiding place Tarrant had had in mind and someone needed to be alert next day. But when Tarrant opened the door to their room the figure in the bed stirred and sat up. 

"Did I wake you? Sorry." Tarrant said. 

"I wasn't sleeping." Blake watched him getting undressed with half closed eyes. Nothing but sleep for either of them tonight, Tarrant thought. Best not to talk, in the circumstances. Not with the situation as it was. 

"If you're going to think that loudly you might as well say it, " Blake said. 

Tarrant sighed. They were talking about it then. "All right. He didn't just know about the Maris invasion in advance, he was waiting for it. And how else could he have got off planet without us tracing him afterwards except with the Federation?" 

"I don't know." Blake said fiercely, propping himself up on one elbow. . "But just because I don't have answers doesn't mean that you're asking the right questions, Del. I know Avon. You don't."

"It's not like you've never been betrayed before," Tarrant said. He climbed into bed, reached out to touch Blake lightly on one arm. "I wish it wasn't happening now. But you can't deny what this looks like." 

"Of course I can. What other choice do I have?" Blake said. "You don't understand. If Avon can manipulate Liberator like a puppet and the Federation is controlling Avon, we don't have a hope."

"Cut the strings then ," Tarrant insisted. "We don't have to keep on running after him, Blake. If we ignore his messages there's nothing he or the Federation can do." 

"And if we need him? If he needs us?"

Tarrant shrugged. "We'll manage without him. I'm sure Kerr Avon can find himself other resources. He seemed like a very resourceful man."

"Not a good time to be flippant, Del."

"I wasn't, this time. If he'd really needed us he'd have found us on Maris or Cephlon. He can send an encrypted message to Liberator that neither Orac nor Zen can trace; that's a pretty impressive achievement. If he's not talking to you it's because keeping you in the dark suits his plans, not because he's in trouble."

Blake rolled back onto his back, eyes on the ceiling. His voice was heavier. "I misnamed you. Not so much devil's advocate as counsel for the prosecution." 

God no, not that. Between Blake and Avon was the last place that Tarrant wanted to be seen to deliberately position himself. But Blake needed to listen to him. He recalled a phrase from a political textbook he'd struggled painfully through the first chapter of to please Blake. "How about speaking truth to power? Isn't that what you supposedly valued Avon so much for, after all?" 

"I think this conversation is done." Blake snapped. "Lights out. " He rolled away from Tarrant and lay still, breathing heavily. 

Tarrant thought about trying to smooth things over, but he couldn't see any way that would go that wouldn't end up either with Blake getting his extremely ill-advised way and carte blanche to chase Avon some more, or more angry. He'd be more reasonable after some sleep, surely. 

He waited until the determinedly steady breathing beside him had relaxed into a natural rhythm, then curled up against Blake’s warm body and did his best to put thoughts of the dispute behind him.

Tarrant woke next morning to an empty bed and room. Not unusual when their shifts didn’t coincide, but he’d have been happier if Blake had woken him long enough to say something before disappearing. 

He made his way towards the flight deck past the door to his old quarters. vacated a few weeks before Avon had turned up. Maybe he’d pushed too hard. Avon’s betrayal was a pretty terrible thing for Blake to have to accept, after all. Maybe it would be best to suggest that they look at it again without preconceptions, have the whole lot of them go over the few facts they had from the beginning, let Blake reach his own conclusion. Then the man couldn’t blame him. 

With any luck it wouldn’t been needed. In the few hours since they’d argued Blake might have rethought the matter or the others might have persuaded him. Perhaps he would find Blake just waiting to apologise when he reached him. Stranger things had happened, especially on this ship.

He strode onto the flight deck and glanced around. Nothing much seemed to he happening. Blake was bent over Orac, the others were on the sofas chatting. They all looked up at him and there was a sudden, odd silence.

“Hi guys,” Tarrant said, smiling. “What’s up?”

Blake stood up. “Tarrant. I told the others a few hours ago and now I’m telling you. We’re going to put the matter of Avon on one side.”

“Put it on one side?” Tarrant blinked. “What does that mean?”

“In the absence of Avon’s explanation for his actions and the limited information we have available, there’s nothing sensible for us to decide.”

Tarrant was bewildered. “What about if he contacts you again?”

“Then I’ll see what he has to say. Until then the matter is closed.”

“A bit of a Schroedinger’s Cat, your Kerr Avon,” Tarrant retorted. “First he’s simultaneously dead and alive and now apparently he’s simultaneously a traitor and loyal. This is ludicrous, Blake. “ He had completely forgotten his resolution not to push. “He’s out there, conspiring with the Federation, and we...”

“Enough!” Blake said sharply. “I consider Avon still a member of this crew. There will be no more speculation about him working with the Federation. Understood?”

“So that’s what Power does when it doesn’t like what it hears.” Tarrant let his voice turn scathing. “I’m Liberator’s pilot. It will take more than your orders to keep me silent while she’s at risk. And if you don’t like that you’ll just have to throw me off the ship.” He turned a shoulder to Blake and stalked out again. 

 

Blake found him eventually, leafing through the clothes rails in the wardrobe room. Tarrant stood for a moment, stroking a thick fur, before he spoke. 

“You could at least tell me which of these he wore so I can avoid them. If I have to be a pale shadow of the man I’d rather not give him a reason to laugh at me again about it.” 

“You’re nothing like Avon.”

“Not even that, huh?”

Blake frowned at him, “I thought you were loyal. I was sure you’d back me on this.” He sounded sad now, not angry. 

Tarrant raised his eyebrows at his lover. “Of course not. Maybe if you’d just been wrong I would have done but this time it’s putting you in danger, I love you too much to risk one iota of your safety just to have you pleased with me.” 

“Oh,” Blake said, and came forward to wrap his arms around him. Tarrant reciprocated, feeling relief and comfort in the hug. 

“He gave us warning on Maris. Without that we could have been trapped.” Blake murmured. 

“Did I claim I could make sense of it all?” Tarrant muttered into Blake’s hair. “I just want you to be very careful, Blake. Please.” 

“I don’t have much choice,” Blake patted Tarrant’s back and let him go. “Careful or not, we’ve got nothing to go on until he contacts us again.”


	3. Fifth Column

“So if it’s got no electromagnetic signature, how can we see it?” Tarrant demanded.

“Zen?” Blake asked.

_The visual object shown on the screen is an extrapolation from the scattering of EM pulses directed towards it by the ship._

The spiked planet apparently hung in space in front of them. They contemplated it. 

“I presume we’re going to leave it well alone,” Tarrant said.

“I would guess we’re going to land on the thing,” Vila muttered. “Claim it for the Revolution.” He had been in a sour mood ever since Blake dragged him away from whatever he’d been doing with Orac. Blake wasn’t a fan of having his crew otherwise occupied when there was a crisis imminent and whatever this thing was it probably qualified as a crisis.

“That’s not such a bad idea,” Blake said cheerfully. “After all it’s obviously not Federation and we need all the allies we can get.” 

“It’s a terrible idea,” Tarrant insisted. “We can’t even see it, Blake! Can you imagine what flying into something like that could do to Liberator? I’m not going to navigate near any planet-sized object with small country-sized spikes on with only Zen’s extrapolation of what it might look like to go on.” 

“We’d better see if Orac has any light to shed on the object, “ Blake said. “Orac, report on the object in the viewscreen.”

Nothing. Dayna, who was sitting next to the box, gave it a thump. “Orac!”

“You’d better not have broken it,” Tarrant said to Vila, but quietly, out of Blake’s hearing.

“I was just telling it jokes, “ Vila protested. “And it went dead. And then Blake told me to leave it alone so I did.”

“It’s not dead,” Dayna said. “The lights are still flashing. Maybe it’s slipped a connection. Did you drop it, Vila?”

“No!”Vila protested. “I didn’t touch it except to put the key on. It was half way through a sentence and it just stopped. Maybe we should try turning it off and on again.”

Blake removed and replaced Orac’s key. Nothing happened. 

“Zen, can you tell what’s happened to Orac?” he asked.

_The computer Orac is not accepting additional input at present._

“Additional to what?” Blake frowned.

_Nature of current input to the computer Orac not known._

“That planet thing has obviously subverted it. Now can we please get out of here?” Tarrant appealed to Blake.

“Top speed,” Blake agreed. “Dayna, monitor Orac and let us know as soon as it responds.”

Orac started to talk to them again after about ten minutes, by which time they were well away from the object. It was entirely unforthcoming about the nature of its sabbatical but claimed that it had not been subverted or its programming changed. 

“It would say that though, wouldn’t it,” Vila muttered. For once Tarrant had to agree with him.

 

“Down and safe. Our contact is here.”

“Acknowledged.” Blake shut down the teleport and shook his head at Tarrant. “One of us needs to be here and the other on the flight deck. Before you get any ideas.”

“Too late,” Tarrant said. “I’ve already got them. in vivid 4D with full sensory surround. They are going to be several hours down there and the ship’s going nowhere. And if you’re worried about emergencies we can always keep our clothes on.” 

The last couple of weeks had been more than usually wearing. Blake insisted that everything Orac gave them be either checked or treated as unreliable. Tarrant hadn’t realised how much he’d come to depend on the awkward box until he couldn’t. He could do with a break and so could Blake.

“We can stay right next to the teleport,” he added, trying to sound responsible and persuasive. “There’s a perfectly good console to balance on , and it takes less than 15 seconds to reach the flight deck. 

“Can’t you wait until bedtime?” Blake complained.

“When was the last time we were both in bed together and awake enough for anything to happen? Not since we had to pull extra shifts after Orac did his secret agent act. Come on, Blake. Do you really think it’s necessary for us to spend the next five hours in glorious isolation?” 

“I suppose not,” Blake conceded. “But...”

Tarrant never found out what his final objection was because the ship accelerated.

“Zen! Report!”

_New course co-ordinates received. Liberator is currently moving towards its destination at standard by seven._

“What destination? Who gave you the new course?” Tarrant demanded.

_Destination unavailable. Course origin unavailable._

“Emergency override! Return to previous course!” Blake snapped. 

_Override unavailable._

“Orac,” Tarrant said. “It’s got to be. “ He started running towards the flight deck, Blake close on his heels.

The box was flashing away to itself, looking entirely normal. Tarrant slammed the key into the slot. 

“The information you require is not available,” Orac said without prompting. 

“Where do you think you’re taking my ship?” Blake demanded. 

“I assure you that I have no interest regarding that entity’s movements whatsoever, “ Orac said. 

“Zen. Did Orac give you course instructions?”

_Please clarify question._

Tarrant stared at the lights for a second. “Zen. Did you receive instructions via Orac?”

_Confirmed._

“Who issued them?”

_That information is unavailable._

“I’m getting tired of that word,” Blake said. He seized a gun from the rack. “Orac, are you going to tell me who is using you to hijack my ship or am I going to put a large hole in your casing?”

“Violence is unhelpful. I am prevented from revealing that information regardless of the extremity of your actions.”

“Was it a human? “Tarrant tried.

“The question is stupid. I am programmed only to respond to humans.”

“Where are we going?” Tarrant said hurriedly before Blake lost his temper completely and carried out his threat. “And why now?”

“Destination is not available. The prerequisites for the transmission of instructions to the Liberator have now been met.”

That was the first hint of actual information that either computer had provided. Tarrant raised a hand to keep Blake from interrupting. “What prerequisites?”

“Roj Blake and no more than one other human to be present on the ship. The rest of the ship’s crew to be in a location with a 99.98% probability of survival unharmed for at least 30 days.”

“Not just a hijack,” Tarrant said. “It’s a kidnapping. A relatively careful one.”

Blake’s face had reddened with anger. “You might as well give up the secrecy, Orac, and tell me what Avon thinks he’s playing at this time.” 

“Your conclusion is logical,” Orac said, “but I am not permitted to confirm it. It would now be rational for you to put the gun down.”

 

Tarrant spent the next few hours unsuccessfully trying to break Zen’s programmed course. Blake had a little more fortune with Orac, who appeared to resent the restrictions it had been forced into and was sidestepping them wherever possible. He managed to find out that they would apparently be travelling for about 40 hours but as Liberator kept changing speed and heading slightly it was as yet impossible to know where that would put them. Communications were out. Weapons were still functional but since navigation was locked they were of little use. 

Blake refused to speculate about Avon’s intentions. He didn’t want to talk about anything else either. They took it in turns to sleep with one of them on the flight deck at all time but nothing happened. It was a long dull trip and Tarrant added it to the ledger of the discomforts and inconveniences that Kerr Avon owed him for. It didn’t help to know, thanks to Orac, that he was only along at all because Avon had calculated that requiring Blake to be entirely alone on Liberator before his plan went into action might have added months to the wait. 

Avon didn’t want Tarrant, and Blake didn’t seem to want him much either. Tarrant’s attempts at physical comfort were mostly received distractedly or shrugged off. He didn’t expect much more; this had turned into an operation and Blake never allowed himself be distracted at such times, but he did worry that the man wouldn’t even talk about what was happening. Tarrant might just as well have been left behind with the others for all the use he seemed to be to his lover.

 

“Breakfast.” There were about four hours left before they arrived wherever they were going. Tarrant was determined that Blake would eat something before then. 

“It's this one,” Blake didn't look round from the main screen. “Hippolytus.”

There was a scan of a single planetary system on the screen. “ Are you sure?”

“Orac told me that any truly rational being would have deduced it hours ago.” 

“Am I the only one who preferred that thing when it wasn’t trying to be helpful?” Tarrant pushed the plate into Blake's hands. “Eat this while I take a look.” 

Hippolytus was a tidally locked ice planet. A small blue oval on the equator covered maybe 5% of the total surface area. Tarrant enlarged the diagram. 

“What's the colour scheme?” 

“The data is five years old. The dark blue was habitable then. Light blue is Orac’s prediction of the new habitable area. Green blobs are domes.”

"That's fast.” The blue had doubled in surface area. 

Blake nodded. “They've got all the water and CO2 ice they need right to hand. All they need to do is keep moving it into the melt zone and they've got an atmosphere of sorts and the start of a greenhouse effect.”

“Federation?” 

"Nominally, yes, or at least the original settlers were. No-one in the rest of the galaxy is particularly interested in them though. A survey ship did this cursory survey on its way to somewhere else five years ago and there's no record of anyone visiting since." He looked up at Tarrant. "Can we get in there and scan the domes without alerting then to our presence?'

"Eat, and I’ll tell you.” Tarrant said. He waited until Blake had taken a bite. "Easily, if Zen lets me have the controls. However your old friend might have other ideas." 

Blake muttered something that might have been a curse. “Zen, I keep telling you I need priority communication with Kerr Avon.”

_Communications unavailable._

“How about navigation controls?”

_Navigation system unavailable. Liberator has accelerated to standard by eleven._

“Eleven?” Tarrant hissed in shock. So much for four hours. “We could be there in ten minutes. I don’t suppose you’ve got a plan?”

“He’s doing his best to make sure I don’t have time to make one.” Blake put the plate aside. “This is the plan. You’re going to stay on the ship at all times, regardless of what else is going on, and the second Zen relinquishes the controls you’re going to get the hell out of here.”

“I’m not going to run out on you.”

“I’m not asking you to, Del. Go back, get the others, come back and find me.”

Tarrant stared at the image of the blue blob., “You’re not planning to go down there on your own!”

“I’m not planning to go down there at all, but it might be unavoidable. You mustn’t leave the ship unguarded under any circumstances, Tarrant. If someone takes Liberator we could end up stranded down there with nothing but the prospect of a Federation survey in another few years, and God knows what trouble the others could find themselves in. We need them and the ship to have any chance of handling things.” 

“And if Avon shoots you while I’m gone?”

Blake seized a gun from the rack, “I’ve no intention of letting him. Promise me, Del. I need to know the ship’s secure.”

Tarrant argued for a while but Blake was implacable. Infuriatingly enough, a promise made to Blake was about the only one Tarrant might feel obliged to take seriously. Still, his priority would remain his partner, whatever he might have vowed.

Liberator reached the Hippolytus system at eye-watering speed and slid into a polar orbit, just around the curve of the planet from the settled area. There was no immediate reaction from below; as far as they knew there was no reason for anyone to know that they were there, except, presumably, the man who’d brought them there so unceremoniously. 

A few minutes after the ship reached orbit an audio only communications channel opened.

“Hello Blake. You’ll find the teleport destination preprogrammed. I suggest that you come down for a chat.” Avon sounded calm and slightly amused.

“No,” Blake said.

“Ah. I thought your nose might be a little out of joint at this stage. You really don’t have much choice you know. Your ship’s still entirely under my control.” 

Tarrant laughed aloud at that. “I see you’ve lost your memory along with your manners, your way home and your mind. When were you ever capable of intimidating Blake?”

Avon’s voice went a little drier. “So you brought the new boy along, Blake. That’s convenient. I imagine that I might have felt a little regret if harm had come to Cally, or possibly even Vila, and the Mellanby girl hasn’t had a chance to annoy me yet.”

“You can stop that now.” Blake said sharply. “Whatever you brought me here for, I imagine it wasn’t to threaten Tarrant.”

“No,” Avon agreed. “He’s completely irrelevant so if you could keep him from interrupting us we might get on a little further.” 

“You’re going to wish I could say the same for you,” Tarrant said cheerfully. “But you stopped being irrelevant when you commandeered my ship, inconvenienced me and tried to intimidate my boyfriend. Now you’re going to have to deal with me whether you like it or not, and I can assure you that you won’t like it at all.” 

“Your boyfriend?” Avon sounded startled. “I take it you’re not referring to Blake?”

So he hadn’t known. Maybe Tarrant should have kept it quiet but Avon had deliberately set out to aggravate him and had succeeded.

“Yes, he is.” Blake said. “Not that it’s any of your business. What is your business these days, Avon? I’m heartily tired of being jerked around for no apparent reason.” 

“Come down and I’ll tell you.”

“No. You’ve already separated me from most of my crew. I’m not going to help you finish the job. You can come up here, unarmed and alone, and then we’ll talk.”

“I don’t think I want to come within range of your young fighting cock unarmed, thank you. You could send him down here and then I’ll come up to talk to you. “

“Not a chance,” Blake said. “Tarrant stays on the ship and so do I. At what point in the last few months without you did you think I’d grown stupid, Avon?”

“If I had to put a specific time on it I would say somewhere around the time that you decided it was good idea to have sex with the flotsam and jetsam you picked up in my absence.”

“Told you,” Tarrant mouthed at Blake, who didn’t look even remotely amused, and aloud to Avon. “Why don’t you come up here and repeat that to my face?”

“Really, Blake? Is he truly the best you can do? Well, it seems I shall have to come up after all. You might want to remind your over-excitable friend that I still have access to Liberator’s controls and he doesn’t. I’ll be ready to teleport shortly.” 

The communicator turned off. 

“Well, there you go. You were right,” Tarrant said to Blake. “I couldn’t detect so much as a flicker of jealousy there. What do we do now?”

“You do what we agreed. Stay on the flight deck, get us out of here as soon as you get a chance.” 

“And you?”

“I’ll talk to him in the teleport lounge. No need to take him anywhere else.”

“No!” Tarrant said indignantly. “You are not facing that man alone! He could do anything!”

“It’s Avon. He won’t.”

“Come on, Blake. You can’t still have any blind faith in him. If his motives were good he’d have asked you here, not stolen your ship and forced you to abandon the others without a word. Bring him to the flight deck, then at least there are two of us to watch him.”

“He may not agree.” 

“Then you stay at the controls and I’ll pick him up from the teleport. It’s you he wants to talk to, not me. He’ll come.” He much preferred any arrangement in which Avon wasn’t left alone with Blake. The man was still way too trusting. 

Blake reluctantly agreed, but as Tarrant was about to leave he put a hand on his sleeve to keep him. “Del. This is important. Avon’s not jealous about me.”

“Come on. You heard him!” Tarrant could hardly believe the man’s wilful blindness. 

“Yes, I did. And it made me wonder why someone who I know for certain doesn’t care who I sleep with would act as if he did. I’m sure he was trying to provoke you before he even knew about us, Del, which means he sees some advantage in the quarrel. Remember that and try to keep your temper, please.” 

Tarrant wondered whether to point out that it had been Blake who had been furiously angry with Avon the last time the man had stood them up and the time before but he thought better of it and just nodded. “I shall be the epitome of gentle courtesy, as long as he behaves himself. I’ll let you know when he’s on board and we’ll be back shortly.”

He took the corridor to the teleport at a fairly jaunty run, his hand straying briefly to pat the gun at his side. Tarrant had decided that he was quite looking forward to seeing Kerr Avon again.


	4. Transgressions

Avon looked around the teleport room slowly before he stepped off the pad. He was almost conservatively dressed in black with a ruffled shirt.

“Feels like home, does it?” Tarrant said. “Well, it isn’t, not any more. You should have come back when you were first invited. He wanted you back, then.”

Avon glanced at him then started towards the door.

“Hang on!” Tarrant inserted himself into the way. “Blake said unarmed!”

“Blake says a lot of things. Get out of my way.” He sighed pointedly at the weapon now in Tarrant’s hand. “Don’t tell me that under that façade of grinning idiocy you really are stupid. Shooting me isn’t going to get Liberator operational again.” 

“Shooting you fatally isn’t. I’m quite capable of deliberately missing anything critical at this range but it’s still going to hurt. Put your hands up.” 

“Did Blake send you down here to shoot me or to escort me to the flight deck?”

“It was pretty much left open to interpretation, I felt.” Tarrant wrapped his finger around the trigger. “Don’t try to face me down, Avon. Blake still thinks you won’t kill him. I intend to make certain that you can’t, which means that gun doesn’t go through that door with you. Ten seconds to raise your hands or I fire.” 

Tarrant had discovered a long time ago that the best way to convince someone he wasn’t bluffing was not to be bluffing. It worked this time. He pressed his own gun up against the man’s shoulder and pulled Avon’s weapon swiftly out of the holster at Avon’s waist left handed. Avon kept absolutely still, his hands just above his head. It was a compact weapon but powerful and Tarrant judged likely to be very accurate at short range. “Nice piece,” he said cheerfully and threw it into the disposal chute. 

“That was unnecessary.” Avon had dropped his arms as soon as Tarrant stepped away. 

“Maybe it will teach you to listen to all those things Blake says more carefully,” Tarrant told him. “Shall we go?”

Avon preceded him silently along to the flight deck. Blake was standing by his console, hands on his hips. Avon nodded to him. “Blake.”

“Avon.” Blake let out a deep breath. “I’m very glad to see you alive. Now give me my ship back.”

“Later,” Avon said. He walked over to look at the greyish-white image of the planet below on the main screen. 

"That's really not a good start to this conversation," Blake said. His voice had lowered. Tarrant knew that was a warning sign. So of course must Avon. 

"Better than 'never', I would think," Avon said coolly. " You never did have much patience."

"Patience? Cally and Vila are stuck on Rigel 6 without so much as a word of warning or explanation. You've suborned both my computers and dragged my ship halfway across the galaxy to some tiny colony in the back of beyond on a whim and you expect me to have patience with you? If you don't release Orac right now I'm going to tell Tarrant to throw it out of the airlock and we'll see if that gets Zen back to normal."

"It won't." Avon said. "Do you really think I'd have made it that easy?" 

"No harm in finding out." Blake countered, raising his gun. The stun blast hit Orac's casing on the tip of one corner and it spun around and crashed into the floor. 

"Barbarian!" Orac's furious voice berated Blake from behind the table. "Vandal! Murderer! Saboteur!" 

"Idiotic man! "Avon snarled, dropping to one knee beside the device. "We need Orac."

"I don’t care what you need, " Blake said. "I need Orac, but if I can't use it then I would rather see it destroyed than in the wrong hands, which right now is yours. If you don't undo whatever you've done to it the next shot will destroy it." 

"This is your fault,” Orac screeched, presumably at Avon. “Rectify the situation! I demand that you rectify the situation instantly!” 

Avon stared at Blake. “You’d do it too, wouldn’t you? Still blinkered and stubborn. Very well. Orac, end program six alpha seventy four epsilon eight.”

“The ship is no longer under my control,” Orac said.

Tarrant strode up to the pilot’s console. “Zen, status report.”

_Orbiting the planet Hippolytus. All systems on stand by awaiting commands._

He glanced over at Blake, who nodded.

“Zen, take us out of orbit and set course for Rigel 6.”

“Zen, cancel that!” Avon snapped, and to Blake, “Aren’t you even curious to find out why you’re here?”

“I know why I’m here. You needed Orac and probably Liberator as well for something so you thought you’d just borrow them and be damned to the rest of us.” Blake’s voice had gone cold. “You’ve got five minutes to teleport back down to wherever you came from or anywhere else in range that you fancy. After that we’re going back to rescue the others whether you’re on board or not.”

“Don’t I even get a hearing? This is important, Blake!”

“You’ve forfeited your right to one several times over.” Blake sighed. “Look. Send me a message. When I’ve recovered the others I’ll read it. If I think it really is that important we might come back. For now, I suggest you get off my ship immediately. We’re leaving.”

Avon glanced up at Tarrant who hefted his gun a little higher and smiled. Blake might not shoot the unwanted visitor but he would. He clearly managed to convey this message because Avon turned back to Blake and shrugged. “I can’t make you understand what’s going on in five minutes.”

“Four, now,” Tarrant pointed out. “I’ve set a countdown going. Three fifty five.”

“Shut up, Tarrant,” Avon said. “Blake. If I had been certain that a message could convince you of what you had to do then all this would have been unnecessary. If you really insist on setting off back to Rigel 6 right now despite the fact that Orac calculated an absence of any risk to any of the rest of your crew for at least a month then it appears that I’ll have to stay on Liberator with you to put my case in person.”

“That’s not a good idea at all!” Tarrant said, startled.

Blake looked up at him, frowning. “We know he can subvert Orac and Zen from off the ship. He’s probably less trouble somewhere we can see him.” He turned to Avon. “If you make any attempts to interfere with either the ship or Orac we’ll lock you up and then dump you on the nearest inhabited planet.” 

“I need Orac to work with,” Avon said. “You have my word that I won’t try to take control of Liberator from you.” 

“You have my word,” Tarrant said, “that if I catch you messing with my navigation controls again there won’t be anything recognisable left to dump. Don’t let him anywhere near Orac, Blake. Make him do his sums on his fingers.” 

Blake sighed. “Do you need to contact anyone before we leave?”

“It wouldn’t help.” Avon said. 

“Right. Tarrant, set a course back to Rigel. Avon, since we’re short handed you can take your usual post.”

“I need to talk to you,” Avon insisted. 

“Not now. Obviously you’re not going to be sitting watches on your own so I suggest that when we’re safely out of the system you get something to eat and get some sleep, which is what I shall be doing. since it’s Tarrant’s watch. You’ll find your room hasn’t been disturbed since you went missing. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

“My, how delightfully nostalgic to be bossed around again,” Avon muttered, but he took up his console position. “And I still need Orac.” 

“Tomorrow,” Blake said. “If you convince me.”

Tarrant could think of two dozen safeguards to set up with a potential enemy on board, but he couldn’t think of any that Avon couldn’t bypass in less time than it took to set them up so he didn’t bother. He did get Zen to provide a running report on what Avon was doing but he was aware that he couldn’t entirely rely on it. According to Zen Avon was still asleep when Blake came up to relieve him. 

Blake looked better than he had for some time. He had his ship back, Tarrant thought, and a co-operating Avon must seen like not much of an adversary. Which reminded him that he hadn’t told Blake about the gun. He did, but Blake didn’t seem much concerned. 

“Avon hates going into a situation at a disadvantage.You handled it fine.”

“It doesn’t worry you that he brought a gun to talk to you?”

“I doubt that it was me he brought it for.” Blake said cheerfully. “You did threaten him, Del, if you remember.” He gave Tarrant a quick kiss. “Get some sleep and stop worrying. I can manage Avon. We’ll sort everything out in the morning.”

 

As Tarrant came up towards the flight deck next morning he could hear them arguing. 

“You never used to be complacent! If this is what domestic bliss does for you then shooting the boy would be doing you a favour!”

“This is nothing to do with Tarrant and you know it. You’re demanding the impossible. No wonder you weren’t prepared just to ask.”

“I’m giving you a perfectly workable plan...”

“You’re not giving me a plan. You’re giving me a script, Avon! And taking my ship.”

“Ah yes, your ship! It’s always about Liberator in the end, isn’t it? Not your damn revolution. You’d rather stay as tin-pot dictator of your little empire than really change anything. Especially now that you’ve made it so cosy for yourself.”

Tarrant had paused at the doorway. He could see Blake, hands on hips, glaring across at Avon, who appeared to have raided the wardrobe room for red leather. “How dare you lecture me on commitment! You left me, Avon! I thought you were dead!”

“And how did that change anything?”

"It changed everything!"

"How?" Avon repeated. “What difference did it make whether I were alive or dead, on Liberator or somewhere else? What would you have done differently, Blake?"

"That's not a fair question." 

"No? Would you like to know what I would have done with Liberator had you mysteriously vanished?"

"No." Blake said flatly. "I've got enough on my hands with your actual betrayal without concerning myself with theoretical ones as well."

"I haven't betrayed you." There was scorn in Avon's voice now. "I've gone my own way, that's all, and now I'm offering you the chance to reap the benefits of that. To actually achieve something. His much have you achieved on your own recently?" 

"I haven't got anyone on our side killed. Are you keeping a body count for this plan of yours?"

"Seventeen dead," Avon said, “And eight in Federation hands. The continued occupation of the Maris System might be responsible for a handful more that I don't know about but the population's on drugs now so there's unlikely to be much active resistance."

Tarrant walked forward. "You caused that?"

Avon ignored him. 

"Yes he did." Blake said. Now he sounded devastated rather than angry. "And he sold out the Upsilon 5 scientists. You were right all along, Del. I owe you an apology." 

"And their deaths will be completely wasted at this rate." Avon said. "I promised Servalan you and Liberator. Delivery is my only way of getting to her. Do you want her dead or not?" 

"Why do you want her dead? " Tarrant demanded. "Since when do you care about Blake's aims?"

Avon reluctantly turned to face him. "I don't. But I want to take down Servalan, for very personal reasons."

"What reasons?"

"I said that they were personal." Avon said coldly.

"But worth the lives of twenty five good people?"

"This is war. Winning is worth a great deal more than that."

"That's my problem," Tarrant said. "Might your personal reasons be worth, say, Liberator and Blake's freedom? And, not completely incidentally, my life too? Wouldn't you be saying exactly the same things to persuade us in if you knew you'd get to Servalan this way but we wouldn't get out alive?"

Avon raised an eyebrow. "Not entirely stupid, it seems. Yes, of course I would. But as it happens I fully expect you to survive and escape with Liberator intact." 

"Can you prove it?"

Avon frowned. "I can get Orac to confirm what I'm saying."

" You can get Orac to do all sorts of things, it appears," Tarrant said. "I've no doubt that you can make it lie for you." 

“That's a great deal more difficult than you make it sound," Avon said, "But I doubt that you’re intelligent enough to understand if I explained why."

“This is pointless,” Tarrant said to the silent Blake. “He’s killed innocent people for this plan of his, He could kill us just as easily. Never mind co-operation, we should hold him responsible for those deaths.”

“I don’t think that’s a road you’d want to go down, Del Tarrant.” Avon said. His voice was ice. “Did you ever tell your boyfriend about the Third Saturn Riots?”

That startled Blake out of his immobility. “You were there?” he asked Del.

“Well, Tarrant. What precisely do the records say?” Avon prompted. “Or shall we ask Orac?” 

Tarrant took a breath and glared hot murder at Avon. This was not a conversation he’d ever intended to have. “I was the commanding officer, as Avon clearly knows damn well.” 

“The Third Saturn Riots?” Blake repeated. “The Third?”

“The operation went wrong,” Tarrant admitted. “Very wrong. But at least I was supposed to be following Federation orders at the time. What’s Avon’s excuse?”

Blake was still staring at him. Slowly he turned to take in Avon. “Am I the only person on this ship who isn’t a cold blooded murderer?”

“You knew I’d been a Fed officer,” Tarrant was trying to keep the indignation out of his voice, with little success. “You never once asked what I did. Did you think I’d served in the ‘helping old ladies across the road’ division?”

“I didn’t think you’d been personally responsible for one of the most notorious massacres in the last ten years,“ Blake snapped. 

“Well I was. And shortly afterwards I deserted. The two weren’t entirely unconnected.” 

“And what about you?” Blake said to Avon. 

“I’ve told you what I did and why.” 

“Right.” Blake said. And louder. “Right. I need to think. I’ll be in Jenna’s old room and I don’t want to be disturbed unless it’s an emergency.” He glanced round at both of them. “I would say don’t kill each other in my absence but I’m beginning to think it might be the best solution all round.” 

“Blake.” Tarrant said, a little desperately. “We clearly need to talk about this.”

“I don’t think I can stand to talk to either of you right now.” Blake hefted Orac up into his arms and walked out.


	5. Fair Fight

The door closed and Tarrant swung to cover Avon, the gun in his hand.

“I should just kill you now and work out the justification later.” He thought he might actually mean it.

Avon watched him carefully. After a moment he jerked his head in negation. “Spare me the bluster. You won’t do it.”

“No,” Tarrant agreed. “I do need some sort of excuse. So why don’t you try something and we’ll see what happens?”

“You must have known that he’d find out, “ Avon wasn’t moving at all. 

“Why? He’s not like you. He trusts people. He even trusted you, long after all the evidence pointed to your guilt. He’d never have gone digging up old dirt to use against me. It takes a bastard like you to do that.” 

Avon smiled a little at that. “Don’t you think I should take an interest in what sort of people Blake’s letting on board his ship, not to mention into his bed? I merely made the background checks that I knew Blake wouldn’t bother with.” He made his way slowly to the sofa and sat down, no sudden movements. “ Which, in case there is any doubt about the matter, you comprehensively failed.” 

“You’re jealous of our relationship.” Tarrant said bitterly. “I knew you would be.”

“You don’t have a relationship.” Avon stretched his arms out across the back of the sofa and crossed his legs. “You’re Blake’s pet, that’s all. Something for him to feel fond of in his spare time. He doesn’t take any notice of you when things matter, does he?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Tarrant snarled. 

Avon smiled at that. “Of course I understand. You’re perfect for Blake. Young, pretty, athletic, very useful, conveniently always to hand, suitably admiring and you don’t for one moment distract him from anything he actually cares about.” 

“I happen to think I’m perfect for him too,” Tarrant said. “Which is why he isn’t going to break up with me over I did something before I changed sides. Blake understands redemption.” 

“Indeed,” Avon was still smiling. “And you’re probably right. Blake might well forgive you Saturn after due consideration and much agonising but I’m willing to bet that he won’t keep sleeping with you for long. I’ve made you into a real person for him, with a history, with a mind, with feelings, and that will spoil everything. Pets aren’t meant to present him with troubling ethical issues. They just sit around being fluffy and waiting to be petted.” 

“I am not a fucking pet!” Tarrant glanced down at the gun in his hand, scowled in frustration and placed it on the chair behind him. “If you’d done your background checks properly you’d know what sort of man I am and you’d be a great deal more careful.”

“Oh, I know what kind of man you are. One who’s far keener on threats than execution,” Avon said. “That’s where it went wrong on Saturn, wasn’t it? You tried to be too belligerent, talked yourself into a corner then held back too long from taking action and a lot of people paid for it.” 

Tarrant didn’t want to talk about Saturn. He didn’t ever want to even think about Saturn. He certainly didn’t want to hear Kerr Avon’s cold and all too precise analysis of what he’d done wrong. He desperately wanted Blake’s steady affection right now but Blake had called him a cold blooded murderer and locked himself away. There was only Avon, lounging and smiling at him as if it was all a game, as if all this wasn’t entirely the man’s fault. 

“You’ll never really understand,” he told Avon. “You see real love and you just think weakness. Well, do your worst. We’re going to survive your corrosive, bitter jealousy just fine.” 

Avon turned away to address the swirling panel. “Zen, give me the most recent headlines available from Federation Earth News.” 

_Confirmed._ Announcements started to scroll down the main viewer. 

“What are you doing?” Tarrant demanded. 

Avon looked back at him briefly. “You have just informed me, apparently with a straight face, that true love conquers all. If you’re resorting to that degree of juvenile fatuousness I can only assume that you had nothing else of any importance to say.” He turned back to the screen. “Zen, play the item on the new Presidential residence.” 

Tarrant walked over to the sofa and hit him in the face. Avon reached up, grabbed the cloth on his shoulders and surged off the sofa to head butt him in the mouth. After that they were fighting, no holds barred, punches, kicks and scratches and even the occasional bite. Tarrant was fuelled by absolute fury. After a few minutes he’d trapped Avon on the floor, up against the edge of the sofa and was delivering vicious kicks alternately to ribs and face while the other man gasped and floundered. 

“Tarrant!” Blake’s voice was urgent behind him. “Stop!” 

Tarrant reluctantly stepped away and Avon dragged himself to his feet. His face was bloody, his clothing torn, one hand was held tight across his ribs and he favoured one leg heavily.

“We’d better get you to the med unit,” Blake said. “Not you, Tarrant. Stay on the bridge.”

It was a long time until Blake returned, alone. He stopped just inside the flight deck and looked at Tarrant for a long time, his face unreadable.

Tarrant opened his mouth to speak but Blake cut him off. “I don’t want to hear that he provoked you,” he said, his voice tired. “He’s a guest on this ship and my friend. I thought that would mean something to you, Del.”

“If you knew what he said in your absence you wouldn’t think him a friend,” Tarrant said.

“I do know.” Blake took the seat that Avon had lounged in earlier. He shook his head slightly at Tarrant’s expression. “I thought it was probably important so I replayed the flight deck record.” 

“So then you know what he said about us,” Tarrant said. “I was fully justified...”

“You were not.” Blake’s voice had gone hard. “Avon is entitled to express an opinion, however misguided, about our relationship without getting savagely beaten up over it. He’s never suffered fools gladly and he thinks you’re a fool, an opinion which your recent actions have done nothing but confirm.”

Tarrant glared at him. “Is that what you told Avon? That he should go ahead and call me whatever names he chooses because you don’t care?” 

“No, of course not!” Blake closed his eyes for a moment. “I told him what I’d come back up to tell him, not that he was in much of a state to respond.”

A moment of hope lit up Tarrant. “You told him no.” 

“Not quite.” Blake’s eyes flickered around the room, as if he were looking for others there. “I told him that I rejected his methods utterly, but what’s done is done. I can’t change that. If we could end this with no further deaths...” He looked back at Tarrant. “I told him that when we’d picked up the others he could put his plan to all of us and we’d all decide. He was, after all, one of us. That was before I knew you’d tried to beat him to death for sneering at you, of course.”

“That’s not how it was!” Tarrant protested. “It was a fair fight. I just happened to win, that’s all.” 

“You’ve got a couple of scratches and a nosebleed. Avon had a fractured cheek bone, a broken nose, three fractured ribs and a couple of loose teeth, and when I arrived you weren’t showing any signs of stopping.” 

And Avon had had every bit of that coming to him. Tarrant had more sense than to say so though. “Did the med unit fix it all?” he asked, trying to sound as if he cared.

“It’s still working,” Blake said. “It’s put him under for the moment.” He sighed. “Nobody knows as well as I do how annoying Avon can be, but I managed two years living with him on this ship without resorting to violence. Couldn’t you have held onto your temper for a couple of hours?”

Ah. Blake had asked him to, hadn’t he? Tarrant had forgotten that. “Sorry,” he said with a little genuine contrition. “I won’t do it again. When we reject his plan he’ll be gone soon, anyway.”

“Will he?” Blake frowned. “He hasn’t told me that he’s leaving.”

“He can’t stay!” 

“Of course he can. He belongs on Liberator, “ Blake said. 

“Even after the things he’s done recently? Abandoning the others? Taking control of the ship? Betraying those scientists? Don’t you care about those things any more?”

“I’ve told you that I don’t approve of his methods, “ Blake said, “but it doesn’t change his right to be here. He’s on our side, Del.”

“He’s not on my side!” Tarrant insisted. “He’s already done everything in his power to turn you against me and he’s not going to stop until he’s got you back exclusively for himself.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Blake said. “Avon’s a friend, an old friend who’s saved my life more times than I can count. If you can’t accept my having friends without this sort of jealous overreaction then that’s going to be far more of a problem for this relationship than Avon ever would be.” 

“I don’t give a damn about you having friends,” Tarrant snapped. “I do give a damn about the fact that you are being used and lied to by someone you are fool enough to trust and that part of his scheme is clearly to make sure that you no longer trust the only person who’s actually looking out for you.” 

Blake pushed himself to his feet. “You’re not looking out for me, Tarrant. You’re looking out for yourself. You’ve been obsessed with my relationship with Avon ever since you came on board. I’ve had enough. You won’t threaten Avon again, you’ll be civil to him and you definitely won’t hit him again. Those are orders, not requests.” 

“And will he be civil to me?” Tarrant demanded.

“Probably not. Consider that your penance for winning your ‘fair fight’. I’m going to sit by the med unit till he wakes up. He might appreciate a friendly face after what’s happened.” He stalked out, leaving Tarrant to curse under his breath in the empty flight deck.

 

When Avon came in Tarrant assumed that Blake would be close behind, but no-one followed him. 

Avon didn’t say anything so Tarrant did. “We’re about three hours away from the Rigel system. We should be in communicator range in the next hour or so. I’ve told Blake I’ll let him know as soon as that happens. The system data’s streamed to your console if you’re interested. Liberator will be on high alert till we’ve recovered our people but I’ve no particular reason to expect any trouble. Orac assessed it as safe, after all.”

Avon nodded. “I see,” he said blandly and started to review the console data. There was silence for about five minutes. 

“You’ve noticed the Federation ship in the system,” Avon said finally.

“Of course. Orac reports that she’s not due to leave Rigel 2 for half a local day and our route keeps on the far side of the sun from her projected track. Those transporters aren’t fitted with high grade sensors; they go slowly enough that they don’t need to spot anything at very long range.” 

“They usually have escorts,” Avon said.

“She’s meeting them half a day out from Rigel. They’re not due to come anywhere near the system.”

“An unescorted transport. I would have thought a pirate like you would be tempted to take it?” Avon’s voice was still bland. 

“Liberator’s currently down by three indispensable crew members and up by one superfluous one. I have other things on my mind right now than pirating.”

“Superfluous.” Avon sounded amused now. “Is this unlikely meekness supposed to fool Blake or me?” 

“Blake asked me to be polite,” Tarrant said. “It’s not a problem. I can even afford to concede that you won the first round. After all, my reinforcements are about to arrive.” He gestured at the star system coming up on the main screen.

“Your reinforcements? Are you sure?”

“Don’t think,” Tarrant said, “that you can pull the same trick twice. You may have persuaded Blake that he needed to know about Saturn but he won’t be impressed if you tattle to his crew without his say-so.”

“I was on this ship for far longer than you have been,” Avon said. “I don’t need your advice.”

“That’s good,” Tarrant said. “I’m rather looking forward to watching how you handle things when the others get back.” 

Avon turned his head and Tarrant followed his gaze to Blake in the doorway. Blake said nothing about however much of the conversation he’d overheard, just coming forward to take his place. “Anything on communications yet?”

“It’s starting to flicker in,” Tarrant said. “Another few minutes and we’ll hopefully have a clear signal.” 

“Good. I’ll handle the comms. We don’t need any more complications.”

 

Eventually Blake put down the microphone.

“They’ve got to be in range by now. They’re just not answering. Something’s wrong.”

“We’ve got another problem.” Tarrant said. “The transporter’s left early and it’s on the wrong course. It will be close enough to spot us in the next few hours, unless we move out of range of the planet again.”

“You said they’d be safe on Rigel 6,” Blake accused Avon. 

“I said that Orac’s assessment was that they would be safe. I didn’t choose it.” He slid Orac’s key in. “Orac, we can’t raise the others on Rigel 6. Your assessment was that they were in no danger. Were you in error?”

“Certainly not,” Orac said. “If they are failing to respond to you it is merely because they have been arrested.”

“Arrested!” Blake scowled at Avon. “That’s not safe.”

“Of course it is.” Orac snapped. “Rigel 6 has, for humans, a fairly advanced judicial system. They will not be physically mistreated during their trials, which are likely to be prolonged by considerable legal argument by their appointed defense team. As my assessment concluded, they are doubtless perfectly safe in the local prison and will remain so for at least 30 days. Any executions will not take place for at least two months.” 

“Executed? What the hell would they have been arrested for?” Tarrant asked.

“Illegal immigration is the most likely charge. Offworlders are permitted to stay for no more than two local days and there is no local transport off system.” 

“They execute immigrants?” Blake stared at the box. “That’s barbaric!”

“Most human customs are barbaric according to declared human criteria for civilisation,” Orac said. “This one merely happens to be unfamiliar to you.” 

“So,” Tarrant said to Avon. “Orac abandons them on this planet knowing full well that they would be arrested and face execution. And this is all following your orders?”

Avon was looking considerably less smug than he had been. “Obviously this wasn’t my intention. Orac’s interpretation of safe was hardly predictable. We’ll recover them.”

Tarrant glancced back at his screen. “Orac, do you have any updated information on the movements of the Federation transporter that has just left Rigel 2?”

Orac hummed for a moment. “Its escorts have arrived in front of schedule and are meeting it in the inner system. Two pursuit ships will be in system in approximately 4 hours.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Tarrant said. “Do you want me to blow them up, dodge them or run away, Blake?”

“How long would it take reinforcements to arrive, Orac?”

“The second fleet is a mere twenty hours away. A distress call would summon a force superior to Liberator’s armaments in under a day.”

Blake grimaced. “That doesn’t give us much time on Rigel 6. You’re going to have to teleport me down then get out of sensor range, come back when it’s clear.”

Tarrant was vocal in his opposition to this plan, but Blake was insistent. “I’ll have Avon with me. We’ll be fine on our own for a few hours. After all, Orac says we’re still legal visitors for two days. ”

“Until you start trying to break out their prisoners. Please at least wait until I’m back in system before you do anything to upset the locals. It won’t do Cally and the others any good to be out from behind bars if you can’t get them off planet.” 

In a moment alone with Blake he had more to say. “I know I can’t persuade you that Avon’s not who you think he is but at least remember that he deliberately created this mess and what that says about his judgement and motives.”

“Oh, I do.” Blake said. “Believe me, he’s not coming with me as a reward for good behaviour. I’d rather have him where I can see him. Take care of my ship, Del, and I’ll see you soon.” 

Tarrant watched the two men flicker out of existence on the teleport pad, then he returned to the flight deck. “Zen, take us a hundred thousand spacials out of system and shut everything but the sensors down. “ It was going to be a long few hours waiting out in the dark.


	6. Keeping Vigil

“Nothing new, Zen?”

_The transporter has not accelerated for five hours, twenty three minutes and 5 seconds.”_

“Shit.” Tarrant said. “Well, that’s it. I can’t wait around here forever.” 

It wasn’t that unusual an occurrence for one of the older Federation vessels to get to the edge of a system, engage interstellar drive and find it wasn’t working. The on board engineers would work on it for a while and either get it going again or wait around a few days for a replacement to be brought in. Unfortunately the length of time that this one had already been stationary suggested that a quick fix was not forthcoming. Tarrant didn’t give a damn about the transporter with its poor sensors and lack of weapons but its escort weren’t going anywhere either, and there wasn’t any way of getting back in communicator range with Rigel 2 without going well within range of their scans. 

Tarrant couldn’t pick up Blake safely with a couple of pursuit ships shooting at him so he would just have to take them out first. It wouldn’t be difficult- if he brought Liberator past at high speed he could launch a couple of torpedoes before they even registered his presence. He felt a twinge at that. He’d done his share of escort duty back in the Federation navy. It was generally considered a safe, if boring, job. You expected the odd fight with pirates, but not the sort of death without warning that he was about to deal. 

Blake was counting on him. 

 

The voice was too faint to make out at first, but Liberator was slicing fast through space towards the planet, leaving the fragments of metal and organics that used to be two pursuit ships now scattered at the system edge. Within a couple of minutes Tarrant could make out the words.

“Liberator. Liberator. We need immediate teleport. Repeat, immediate teleport. Liberator, come in.”

Tarrant grabbed a holstered gun and ran to the teleport room.

“Bringing you up” he transmitted, and slid the controls to bring up all the bracelets within reach. For a moment he could make out five figures on the teleport pad and relief pounded through his heart. As they solidified he saw Avon fall to the floor, away from Cally’s arms. On the other side of the pad Vila and Dayna were supporting Blake. There was an acrid smell in the air.

“”Med unit!” Vila gasped. Tarrant was already by his side, taking the deadweight of Blake on his shoulders. As he dragged the body towards the med unit he could feel nothing that felt like life in it. Blake had been hit in the back, a burned and bloody hole in his jacket.

Tarrant and Dayna settled Blake’s body into the gel and the read out started to scroll bad news. Organ after organ, system after system, all barely functioning. Finally it flashed the current prognosis; 16% chance of survival. 

Tarrant’s other crewmates came in, looked at the readout and went. He had nothing to say to any of them and in the end they left him alone, sitting by the gel unit and watching the number creep up a little, sometimes down a little. His mind was blank.

Eventually Cally came to sit beside him. “It’s getting a little better.” The readout now gave Blake a 24% chance of survival.

“It still thinks he’s going to die,” Tarrant said. 

“Blake’s the toughest of any of us,” Cally said. “Don’t write him off yet.” 

“What do you want, Cally?” His voice was sharp. He didn’t want false hope and he didn’t want conversation. He just wanted to wait here until Blake died or didn’t.

“We need to decide if we’re going back to Hippolytus,” she said calmly.

He lifted his head at that, anger surging through the blankness. “Doesn’t he even have the decency to wait until Blake’s dead before taking his ship?”

“I’m sorry, Tarrant, but we can’t wait,” Cally said. “Servalan’s on her way to Hippolytus. She thinks Avon’s keeping Liberator there until she arrives. If she gets there and finds us gone then his plan fails.” 

She paused, then said, even more steadily. “We’ve discussed it and we think Avon’s plan’s worth trying, even without Blake. But we need to know what you think.”

“That’s simple enough, “ Tarrant said. “I would sooner fly Liberator into the heart of a sun then take it anywhere at that man’s bidding. I promised Blake that I wouldn’t kill him and I’ll keep that promise as long as Blake draws breath, and not a moment afterwards. Now go away and let me watch my lover die in peace.”

“You don’t know what happened down there, “ Cally said.

“No, but I know why he was there in the first place. Please go away, Cally. If Blake gets better I’ll be sure to let you know. If he dies then once I’ve killed Avon you can do what the fuck you like with the ship.” 

“Avon saved his life down there. His and ours.”

Tarrant stared at the readout. 26%. “The med unit doesn’t seem to agree with you. Get out, Cally, or I’ll drag you out.”

After she had gone he settled down again, but the blankness had gone. Tarrant didn’t want to spend what could be the last few hours of Blake’s life thinking about the man who was responsible. If Blake died then he’d kill Avon. That would be an end to it. There was no more consideration required than that. 

Instead he thought about Blake, the moment they’d first met on Liberator, when Tarrant was just about keeping his skin in one place by pretending to still be a Federation officer. Blake had told him later that he’d seen through the pretence in the first few minutes but he’d played along, waiting to see what Tarrant’s game was. Blake could always see the truth behind his arrogance. Blake was usually kind about it too.

He found that his eyes were misting, but there was no-one to see so it didn’t matter. He didn’t want to talk to the anonymous shape in the gel so he talked to the screen instead. “Don’t die yet,” he told the flickering number. “I haven’t talked to you about Saturn. Who else is going to understand? I know you’re disappointed in me now, but just wake up and we’ll talk about it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I was scared that you’d see through me. But you saw through me from the start, and you loved me anyway, So wake up, please.” 

Time passed. Tarrant didn’t do much but cry in what he felt was a particularly unmanly fashion, but he didn’t make the effort to stop. Every so often he’d wipe his eyes clear and peer at the number. It wasn’t going anywhere much. Blake was hanging on in there, that was all. A couple of times, maybe more, he fell asleep with his head against the monitor, jerking awake again as he slid downwards

At some point the ship accelerated. They were probably going to Hippolytus. It didn’t matter. Wherever Avon went, Tarrant would find him when he needed to. 

The med unit made one of the beeping noises that it did at intervals, waking him from yet another doze, but this one seemed more urgent than usual. When Tarrant looked up there was a blur where the number had been. It was changing, too fast for him to focus. Was Blake finally dying? He was on his feet, staring down at the unchanging gel then back at the screen. 

It settled. 99%. A summary report ran to barely half a page, all of it positive. Something in there had happened, the tide changed. All systems were healing. The unit said that Blake was going to live. 

He thought of something, in between the haze of tiredness and the start of relief. “Zen, transmit med unit readings to the flight deck.”

_Transmission already in progress._

Of course they would have been monitoring Blake’s condition. He was going to be all right. That was slowly sinking in, Tarrant took another look at the monitor. Still the best part of a day to go before the man would wake up.

His stomach suddenly reminded him that he hadn’t eaten for several shifts. If someone else came to watch over Blake maybe be could get himself a meal, if he didn’t fall asleep first. He dozed while he waited, so he had no idea how long it was before the door slid open, but he lifted his head to greet the newcomer with a smile, which dropped the instant that he recognised the figure.

“What are you doing here?”

Avon was leaning heavily on a metal staff and one arm was bound against his chest. His face bore deep scratches. He limped over to the monitor. 

“Tough as old nails. I never thought for one moment that he’d die.” He looked up at Tarrant. “Apart from looking in on my old comrade, you mean? I was advised about your bloodthirsty intentions in the event of Blake’s death. I was wondering what your revised plans might be.”

Tarrant didn’t have any, not yet. “I’m going to wait right here for him to wake up. You can fuck right off.”

“That would be a mistake. While you wait for that, Liberator will have been taken by Servalan. I’m sure she’ll regard an unconscious Blake as an additional bonus, but you’re not that valuable. She’ll probably just have you shot.” 

Tarrant regarded Avon with disgust. “I’ve had no sleep for two days. I’m not in the mood to be baited. You said you’d kill her. How?”

“Very well. After Liberator’s crew go down to Hippolytus, Servalan will follow my instructions to take the ship and control of Zen. I have negotiated a commensurate price for my services, with of course built in safeguards, most of which will unaccountably fail. Servalan will bring me back on board so that she can see my face when she tells me she’s double crossing me, at which point I will kill her and regain control of the ship.”

“What about Blake?”

“He’ll sleep through the whole thing.” 

Tarrant wiped one eye with the back of his hand. His face was still wet. Avon would have seen that. Bloody man. “And me?”

“Well now. You.” Avon took the seat by the console, resting his leg with an audible sigh. “I may have misjudged you slightly.”

“Don’t even think about apologising for all this. I would have to kill you then.”

Avon’s smile was faint. “I wasn’t intending to. I’ve merely done what was needed all along. But you... I expected you to be back there.” He gestured towards the flight deck, “Fighting me for control of the ship. Instead you’ve spent two days crying over Blake.”

“You think I’m weak?” Tarrant’s hackles had flared. 

“I was going to say genuine. I suppose possibly weak as well. We’ll see.” 

Genuine? Tarrant stared at him. “You thought I didn’t care about Blake?”

“I thought you didn’t care very much.” Avon corrected. “Your reputation, and first impressions, suggested that under the façade of frivolity lurked a great deal of ambition. Sleeping with Blake would make far more sense in that context than as a result of some brainless infatuation with a rather dour older man.” 

“Those are my choices? Brainless infatuation or cold calculation? Fuck you, Avon. I happen to love him.” 

“So it appears.”

That startled him through the exhaustion. “What difference does that make to you, anyway?”

“There is a reasonable chance, given Blake’s behaviour, that it’s reciprocated. I imagine Blake would prefer it if I didn’t get you killed unnecessarily.”

“I imagine you’re right. I’d certainly prefer it. There is no chance in hell that I’m going to leave Liberator for Servalan with Blake still in there though. I don’t care what your calculations tell you. She could kill him with the touch of a button and he wouldn’t even know he was in danger. I’m going to stay right here and defend him until he can defend himself.”

“That gives us a problem.” Avon said.

“It might give you a problem. I have a gun. I’m fine.”

“Servalan will expect to see evidence that you’ve been either neutralised or removed before she comes aboard.”

Tarrant bared his teeth a little at that. “You’re welcome to try. As I said, I have a gun.” 

“I have already explained that I don’t want to shoot you,” Avon said, a touch of irritation in his voice. “But nor do I want to abandon a scheme that has cost time and lives to set up simply because Blake chooses this moment to be indisposed and you’re too tired and emotional to reason with.”

“Sod your reasoning,” Tarrant hissed. “I will barricade myself in here rather than leave.”

“Ah.” Avon said. “That might work, I suppose.” He pulled himself painfully to his feet and limped out. Tarrant watched him go in some confusion. He was tempted to go after him but he’d sworn he would stay with Blake, so he did.

A few minutes later Dayna came in with a large bundle, followed by Vila with a tray of rather marvellous smelling hot food. Dayna tipped up her baggage which turned into a self inflating mattress. Vila put the tray down on the table and considered it with a certain amount of longing.

“What’s going on?” Tarrant asked.

“Avon said you’d want someone you trusted to watch over Blake while you got some sleep.” 

“Sleep? When do we reach Hippolytus?” Without thinking about it he had drifted over to start the meal, to Vila’s obvious disappointment. 

“Another few hours. I’ll be right here and I’ll wake you if anything happens at all.” 

“Can’t you stop Avon? This is crazy.”

“We need to kill Servalan,” she said bluntly. “Otherwise we’re going to do nothing but run away from her forever. Avon’s plan’s a good one and you were outvoted. Sorry. But if you’re going to defend this place from Servalan’s people you need some rest first.”

“Is that what I’m going to do?” Tarrant stopped eating to stare. “You mean Avon’s planning to give Servalan the ship with Blake and me still on it?”

“He said it was your idea.” Dayna raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it?”

Tarrant didn’t think so, but then he was having a bit of trouble remembering what he had said. Too tired. That mattress looking extremely appealing. “I told him I wasn’t leaving Blake.”

“That’s OK then. We’ll get this place sealed up before we leave. Avon will have retaken the ship long before they reach you. Get some sleep. I promise I won’t move from here until you’re awake again.”

Tarrant wasn’t at all happy, but he did trust Dayna’s word. She might be under Avon’s undue influence but she wouldn’t lie to him about it. When he’d slept, then he could take up this whole matter again. 

 

He woke to rough shaking. 

“Tarrant! Tarrant, wake up!”

“Dayna? Is is Blake?” He was up off the bed in an instant and across to the console.

“Blake’s fine. Servalan’s here early. Avon’s stalling her but I need to get to the teleport. Good luck!” Long legs disappeared down the corridor and the door closed behind her.”

“Dayna!” Tarrant got to the door but it stayed shut. “Zen! Open the door!”

Nothing. He tried the override. Nothing. “Avon!” he called down the intercom. “Avon! What the hell’s happening?”

“I’ve shut off all the accesses, inside and out, and the air supply.” Avon’s voice was as calm as usual. “You need to take out the manual overrides though. They theoretically could be accessed from the corridors. Just shoot them.”

“Air supply?” Now he could feel the stillness in the air. 

“The med console has an air scrubber. It will last you for a few hours if you don’t do too much shouting. I’ll be back in control of Liberator long before then.”

“No! This is insane. You can’t give her Liberator at all, let alone with us on board.”

“Blake can’t be moved and I understood that you were staying with him. Too late now. The others are on the ground and I’m teleporting now. Look after Blake, don’t do anything stupid and most of all don’t listen to Servalan. Avon out.”

Then there was silence. Tarrant paced around the small room once, checking everything. Then he took out the door and ventilation controls in three clean shots and sat down with the gun on his knee to wait for developments.


	7. Judgements

“Tarrant.”

The intercom had come to life. Tarrant ignored it.

“I know you’re there, Tarrant, just as I know Blake’s in the med unit and unlikely to survive. Avon told me and Zen has confirmed it.”

Her voice was warm as ever. He’d always found her voice warm. It was the things she said that were cold. 

“I presume you’re waiting for my people to break in so that you can mount a heroic defence over Blake’s body. It won’t be a long wait, of course, because you’ll stop breathing soon. You’re going to die without my needing to lift a finger.”

He contemplated turning the intercom off but he needed to know what was happening out there.

“Of course you might just be waiting for Avon. After all, he told you that he’d be back for his revenge? He lied to you, Tarrant. Avon’s never cared about anything as intangible as revenge. It was always about the money for him, that and a bit of resentment of Blake. He’s taken his pieces of silver and gone.”

There was a pause. “Not feeling chatty, Tarrant? That’s all right. I have other things to do now I have your ship. We’ll talk later then. Though obviously not too much later. Goodbye for now.”

The intercom clicked off. Tarrant wondered how much his life would be shortened by about five minutes of serious swearing. It would probably be worth the oxygen. 

He was running through the med unit’s menus, looking for the specs of the air scrubber, when his attention was caught by an option he hadn’t seen before. “Accelerated healing”. 

There was nothing to tell him what the downsides of accelerated healing might be. There must be some, or why not have it as default? Still, at the moment it seemed that Blake wouldn’t have long enough to live for the med unit to finish its non accelerated work. He took a deep breath and pressed the button.

New numbers flashed on the screen. Blake’s chance of survival had reduced, but only to 97%, and the time to completion was now a mere 27 minutes. Given their circumstances Tarrant would take that gratefully. He just hoped that Blake wouldn’t be missing a liver or an arm at the end of it. 

It was the longest twenty seven minutes that he could ever remember, and that included the long, long vigil when he’d thought Blake would die. Eventually the gel drained away and was replaced by a spray that washed the remnants away along with the last shreds of Blake’s clothing. A brief hum and Blake’s body was lying, clean and dry, in the empty unit.

“Blake?” Tarrant leaned over to shake his shoulder but Blake’s eyes opened at his touch.

“Del.” A smile that fled almost as soon as it arrived. “Someone shot me? Did the others all get out?”

“ As far as I know they’re all safe. We’re the ones in trouble.”

He helped Blake climb out of the unit, the man’s eyes going to the burned out door controls. “You’d better fill me in.” 

“The short version. Servalan’s got control of the ship. You and I are barricaded in here and running out of air. The others teleported down to Hippolytus and I have no idea what has happened to them there. And Avon’s taken the money Servalan gave him to sell us out and run.”

To his astonishment Blake grinned.

“Well, the med unit wasn’t part of the original plan but the rest of it seems to be going like clockwork. Is Servalan crowing?”

“You don’t understand,” Tarrant said. “Avon’s actually sold us out. Servalan told me. He’s gone and we’re stuck here.” 

“Yes, she was meant to believe that.” Blake still seemed unconcerned. “She can’t hear us, I presume?”

“I don’t think so. Avon must have done something with the links. She thinks you’re at death’s door.” 

“Good. You’d better sit down. We need to talk, Del.”

Tarrant stared at the naked man. “No, we don’t! What we need to do is to get out of here before the oxygen runs out! Listen! Avon said Servalan would bring him back onto the ship, yes?”

“That was the idea.” 

“But she said that he’s gone! If she isn’t even in contact with him, he won’t get back on the ship, and if he doesn’t get back on the ship he isn’t going to rescue us. We have to get out of here on our own.”

Blake shook his head. “Stop worrying, Del. We can get out of here any time we want.”

“How? If you haven’t noticed, the doors are sealed and there’s nothing in here that will break through them.”

“All I need to do is talk to Servalan. She’d break her way through a dozen sealed doors to take me alive. But we’ll wait for Avon to move first, which gives us time to talk.”

“Avon’s not coming.” Tarrant said. “And if Servalan breaks into here we might wish we’d suffocated peacefully. Don’t you have any sense of self preservation at all?” 

“How long until the air runs out?”

“I reckon three to four hours.” Tarrant had found the specs and done some calculations while Blake was in the med unit.

“And how long will it take Servalan’s people to break through those doors?”

Tarrant shrugged. “Twenty minutes?”

“More like ten,” Blake said. “Either way, we can safely give Avon at least a couple of hours.”

“There’s no point,” Tarrant insisted. “He’s betrayed us, Blake.”

“We give him two hours, Del. Now sit down.”

Tarrant hoisted himself up onto the flat top of the med unit, because taking the chair felt too much like an interrogation. Blake sighed and sat on the chair. The room had become over warm in the absence of the air conditioning and they had both started to sweat. Tarrant decided that he was mildly envious of Blake’s absence of clothes. He started to strip his own off. 

“I’m not going to be distracted by that,” Blake said. “We need to talk about Saturn.”

Now that it came to it, Tarrant found that he didn’t want to talk to Blake about Saturn after all. Still, there was nowhere to go and he could hardly claim anything else in here as priority. He took a long breath. “What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me what happened.”

Tarrant had spent a great deal of time trying to forget. He sat for a moment, marshalling his thoughts. Saturn. 

“One of the big processing plants out there had a spate of fatal accidents. The skilled and valuable workers went out on strike, led by a handful of the usual anti-Fed rabble rousers.”

He glanced up at Blake. “That’s what we were told, anyway. Maybe they were just trying to save lives. What was certain was that this was an illegal strike and it was costing the plant owners a fortune. They called for military assistance and the military sent the nearest small force to deal with it which happened to be me, twenty men and a shiny new ship.”

“Why were you there at all?”

“There meaning Saturn?”

“There meaning the military,” Blake said. “Why did you join up in the first place?”

“Family tradition, “ Tarrant said. “You went into the family business or into wealth management, you went into law or you joined the officer corps. Only one of those involved flying ships and fighting people so I picked that.”

“You must have known what they’d make you do.”

“Oddly enough, no I didn’t. I grew up around ex military aunts, uncles and grandparents but they didn’t talk about things like strike breaking. It was all about battles and daring rescues. I knew the Federation had enemies within but I had no idea how it treated ordinary people. After all, no-one I knew had any problem with it.”

“So when did you find out these things?” Blake asked.

“Long before Saturn. Still, I’d picked a side and I thought I was loyal to it. The rebels were the enemy so I’d do what I was ordered and fight them. On Saturn that meant identifying the ringleaders, cutting them out of the pack to be dealt with separately and getting the rest back to work. It was my first independent operation but I’d been involved in similar actions before. There was a standard technique for dealing with small groups of troublemakers. I thought I could do the job faster.”

His gaze had dropped again. Now he looked across at Blake. “I swear I never intended for any of them to die.”

“What did you do?” Blake sounded as if he were talking to a stranger. 

“I took some hostages and threatened to kill them. I thought that would be enough.”

“And was it?”

“No. “ Tarrant sighed, “I didn’t want to go through with it. If the rebels wouldn’t come to heel to save my hostages’ lives, what would be the point of executing them anyway? But I couldn’t let them go while the strike continued, obviously, and I didn’t want to seem weak, so I mocked up a couple of particularly gruesome executions and broadcast it to the strikers. Then I told them that I’d take out the air supply to their dome next and they’d suffocate slowly. I thought they’d believe me then, with their comrades’ dead bodies apparently horribly mutilated on my floor.”

“And they did.” Blake said, flatly.

“It seems so. Someone in there blew the dome from the inside and they all died, all three hundred and seventeen of them, along with twenty three non-strikers and sixteen of my men. That didn't go down well; my four remaining troopers killed the nineteen hostages on my ship in retaliation.”

He shook his head. “The story the Feds put about was moreorless the real one- the dome had been sabotaged by a suicidal rebel- but no-one believed it of course. The deliberate murder of non violent strikers by a Fed officer was far more plausible, especially after an audio copy of my broadcast to them threatening to do just that was smuggled out by someone.”

Blake nodded. “I haven’t heard it but I knew that it existed.”

“So I didn’t order any deaths on Saturn, in the end, but a lot of people died as a result of my decisions. Four months later I took a pursuit ship and deserted. That’s the story, all of it.”

“What would you have done if they hadn’t surrendered or blown the dome?”

“I don’t know.” Tarrant said. “ I was trying to give myself options but I was a Federation officer and my orders were to break the strike.”

“So you do know.” Blake said. “You didn’t think about breaking your orders. You didn’t think about rebelling against your superiors. You were just a bit squeamish about killing hostages in cold blood. And you were the face of the Federation in all its brutality when you terrified some poor soul into mass murder to escape you.”

Tarrant drew himself up a bit. “Make whatever accusations you see fit,” he told the other man. “I’m not saying that I don’t deserve them all. But please don’t think that you’re the voice of my conscience. I’ve lived with this for years. I have a conscience of my own.”

“Where was your conscience on Saturn?” Blake’s voice was uncompromising. 

“I screwed up on Saturn. I’m sorrier for that than you can imagine. But I’m not apologising to you for that, Blake. You weren’t the one hurt.”

“So why does it feel like I’m hurting?”

“I really don’t know.” Tarrant said. “I think I don’t understand you any more. Maybe Avon was right about us. You could have asked me about my past. You could have spared thirty seconds to ask Orac for a summary of my military career. Avon went to the trouble of finding out about me and he didn’t have a hundredth of the resources that you do.”

“So now it’s my fault for not prying?”

“Why didn’t you pry? I assumed that you were prepared to let my past be, but that’s clearly not the case.”

“This is the Saturn massacre!” Blake retorted. “I didn’t for one moment think...”

“No!” Tarrant hissed back. “You didn’t for one moment think, did you? Useful Del, devoted Del, loyal Del- just when did you stop and think about me for long enough to wonder about my past? He was right; I was nothing more than your bloody pet.”

“Three hundred and fifty innocent people die as a result of your actions and you think our problem is that I don’t love you enough?”

“Our problem? I’m losing count of our problems. There’s the one where your real boyfriend has sold us out to Servalan because you trust him implicitly, while you don’t even bother listening to me. That one’s going to kill us shortly so it probably counts as fairly important. How does it rate it alongside the problem that you don’t love me, or that I’m not the innocent you took me for?”

“What do you want to hear? That those people on Saturn mean nothing to me? That Avon means nothing to me? Do you really think I’m going to tell you those things just to make you happy?”

“I want the truth.”

Blake laughed at that. “No. No, I’m fairly sure you don’t.”

“Try me.”

“All right then. The things that I find most attractive about you; your bravery, creativity, confidence, loyalty- they were all what made you a Federation officer. They were what caused the massacre at Saturn. I look at you now and I can see that officer, arrogant, keen to impress, without the slightest empathy for the people he was intimidating. Saturn wasn’t an out of character blunder; it’s who you are.”

“I left!” Tarrant’s voice was raised. “I deserted, if you remember! I got sod all out of it except the end of my career, a life being hunted and the knowledge that I’d never see or speak to anyone I cared about ever again! I didn’t do it for you or your damn Cause; I’d never met you. I did it because I didn’t want to have the blood of innocent people on my hands any more. Where the fuck do you get off telling me I’m some sort of natural born killer?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Blake held out a pacific hand which Tarrant just glared at. 

“Well it sure as hell sounded like what you were saying!”

In a brief moment of silence the noise of the intercom was clearly audible.

“Tarrant? Are you there?”

Blake gestured to Tarrant to reply.

“I haven’t gone anywhere. Still keeping my bridge warm for me, Servalan?”

“I would invite you to come and take a look, but you seem to be rather stuck.” Her voice was light. “Trapped with a dying man and your air running out. Not the best decision you ever made, Del Tarrant.”

Tarrant guessed that Avon had looped the med readouts from earlier and sent them up to the bridge. What he didn’t know was why. Maybe Avon had just wanted to deny Servalan one of her prizes. 

“Where there’s life there’s hope. I’m not ready to lie down and die just yet.”

“What a brave little soldier.” Servalan said. “Bravery won’t keep you breathing though. I could, if I wanted to.”

“Missing my handsome face already?” Tarrant asked. “Or is this a deal you’re offering?”

“I thought that you and I might work together for a while. We have a mutual interest.”

“Do we? I can’t imagine what that might be.” Tarrant raised an eyebrow at Blake, who was listening intently, and he shrugged.

“Avon betrayed you. You and Blake and your friends. Wouldn’t you like revenge?”

“You said that he’d gone.”

“There was a tracer in the money he was given.”

Tarrant snorted at that. “Avon will have checked for tracers.”

“And duly found one. Just not this one.”

“So you think you can trace Avon and retrieve your money. Why do you need me?”

“Avon has sabotaged the automatics. They’ll auto-repair in a day or so, but he’ll be out of range by then. I need a pilot.”

“And what about after you’ve found him and no longer need a pilot, Servalan?” He really wished that he could see her face. Her voice wasn’t telling him nearly as much as he needed to know.

“Oh, you’re not important, Tarrant. I can afford to let you go.”

He didn’t believe that for a moment. “Is that the extent of your offer?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll think it over.” He closed the intercom link and looked over at Blake. "So, this is an unexpected development. It seems that I have a decision to make." 


	8. Chase

“You know she’s lying.”

“Of course she is. " Tarrant said. " But the only part I’m really interested in is whether she needs my help to go after Avon. I’m willing to bet that bit is true.” 

Blake frowned at him. “You think being followed is part of Avon’s plan?”

“What the hell did he do to deserve so much of your faith, when I get so little? No, I’m pretty sure Avon’s plan was to fuck off with the money and leave us to die. It’s a plan I rather intend to throw a spanner in. While I’m at it I also plan to get Liberator back from Servalan and find the others, wherever they went. To do those things I need to be on the bridge, which is why I intend to agree to go Avon hunting.” 

“That’s not your decision to make.” Blake’s voice was becoming laboured; the low oxygen and intense heat was taking its toll on both of them.

Tarrant stared at him in disbelief and anger. “Pulling rank, now, on top of everything else? Careful, Blake. Last time I deserted my post I took the ship I was on with me.”

“Tarrant!” Blake said, and quieter but with equal exasperation “Del! Just slow down! You’re angry with me and it’s making you reckless. You can’t take back Liberator from Servalan alone.”

“Isn’t that what Avon claimed he could do? But then you always have more faith in him than in me. Avon never intended to make good on that claim, of course. I do.”

“Can you stop trying to compete with Avon for five minutes, Del! He had months to plan this. You’ve got nothing. We have to wait.”

“No.” Tarrant said. His anger had subsided into a bitter certainty. “I’m not going to let us both die because you can’t see Kerr Avon for the greedy, selfish bastard that he is.” He put a finger on the intercom button. “We have a deal, Servalan. Come and get me out of here.” 

Agitation had turned Blake’s face pastel white. The man lurched to his feet, opened his mouth and fell heavily forward onto the floor. 

 

“What about this one?”

From his position pinned over the console, Tarrant could see the trooper leaning over the med unit. Blake would be no more than a a shape in the gel.

“Dead, near as makes no difference. Leave him.” The captain’s voice came from behind Tarrant. He would have breathed a sign of relief if he wasn’t gritting his teeth against the current rough treatment. Tarrant had hoped that staying mostly naked would make a heavy handed search unnecessary but the captain clearly had orders to be thorough. 

Thoroughness revealed nothing. The gun was currently tucked underneath Blake’s slightly bent knees. When he woke, which according to the unit should be sometime in the next hour or so, he couldn’t miss it. Blake’s judgement might be suspect but Tarrant still had every confidence in his lover’s resourcefulness.

He was hustled roughly up to the bridge and Servalan’s smile. “How pretty. Is this an attempt to make me keep you around once your utility is exhausted? It might just work, provided that you’re suitably co-operative.” And to the guards “Let him go.”

“Let me after Avon and I’ll dance naked for you, if that’s what you want.” Tarrant said. 

“I look forward to discussing that later.” She stepped back so that he could reach his console. “You have navigational and information systems. I have the override. These guards have a number of very powerful guns. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly. Zen, give me Avon’s current position and course. And ours, come to think of it.”

Warnings flashed onscreen. Avon was considerably further away than he’d anticipated, faster than a pursuit ship could have reached, and he was in the Gap. That’s why Servalan had lured Tarrant out of the med room. She was smart enough to know that she really did need a damn good pilot. 

He panned the image out so that he could see the uneven swirls of stars and the dark spaces in between. In the centre of the Gap lurked a primordial black hole, a hundred thousand times bigger than the ones created by dying stars, ten thousand times smaller than the one at the centre of the Milky Way. It created gravitational distortion over a full quarter of a percent of the galaxy, distortion that every Academy trainee was taught became more unpredictable as a ship’s speed increased. Pilots generally flew round, slowly and carefully. Avon was racing straight away from them through the danger zone. 

“Zen, lock in this course, standard by ten. Did Avon tell you why he chose Hippolytus for this betrayal of his?”

“He said that he could intercept Blake there. I presumed it was one of your rebel hideouts?”

Hippolytus must have been chosen for its proximity to the Gap. which Avon had apparently found a way of navigating safely at high speed. He’d need a really good computer system. For the first time Tarrant noticed the absence of Orac from its usual place. So that would be why Servalan was so determined to track Avon down.

He stepped away from the console. “We won’t get to the edge of the Gap for at least an hour., Zen can manage on its own until them. I’ll recover my clothes and get something to eat.”

“You can have food brought here,” Servalan said. “And clothes would be merely gilding the lily. You’re staying on the flight deck.”

Tarrant turned, letting a little appeal into his voice. “What’s the harm in letting me see him? You know what state he’s in.” The med room was the last place that he wanted to lead the guards back to right now, but there was not much of a risk that she’d agree, and not attempting to see Blake might have raised its own suspicions.

“You chose to chase Avon,” she told him. “Blake’s a distraction. Maybe later, after you fulfil your side of the deal.”

“Later may be too late,” he said. “You’ve seen what the med unit says. If he dies without a friend near, I will hold it against you, Servalan.”

She smiled. “Then you’ll just have to catch Avon faster.” 

He glared at her. “I’ll do that then. Zen, increase speed to standard by thirteen.” He returned to his console. 

“Why weren’t we doing that speed before?”

He couldn’t turn to look at her now; his attention had to be on the screen, but he could talk. “It’s a very little bit dangerous.”

“Dangerous how?”

“Liberator’s passive object detection system is constrained by different physical parameters from her velocity. To put it in simple terms, if the ship goes fast enough she can hit things before she sees them.”

“That’s what we’re doing?”

“Certainly not. I’m not giving Avon the satisfaction of seeing us smeared over the surface of a planet. At this speed Zen will detect big things in the way with at least three or four seconds margin. It’s just the small things that don’t give us much time.” 

“How small?”

He shrugged. “Big rock sized. Ship sized. The chances of us actually hitting...Zen, E1!.. any of them are very small.”

“Slow down,” she said. 

“You wanted me to pilot. I’m piloting. At this speed we’ll catch up with Avon in under an hour. Then I can kill him and get back to Blake.”

_Alert. Gravitational distortion at 0.0104 and increasing._

“Acknowledged, Zen. Keep going. You mentioned food, Servalan. Make it something I can eat without looking at it, and coffee. Lots of strong coffee.”

“I have an override,” she reminded him.

“An override won’t fly your ship through the Gap. What you need is me and I’m doing exactly what you want me to do. Trust in this, Servalan. I have every intention of ripping Kerr Avon’s throat out with my bare hands. I can’t do that if I crash the ship, so I won’t crash her.” He took a breath. “At least not if I get that coffee in the next three minutes.” 

“Zen, is Tarrant telling the truth?”

_The concept of truth is not computable._

Servalan’s voice grew tauter. “Is the ship at its current speed and course likely to hit anything?”

_The probability of collision if no course changes are made is approximately 4.365%._

“That’s why I’m flying the damn thing round the stuff in the way, not giving her a heading and and going for a nap,” Tarrant pointed out. “Now can I have my coffee please?”

He got his way, and his coffee, in the end, mainly by pointing out that the longer it took to find Avon, the longer the man had to find and dispose of the tracker Servalan had planted. It seemed that Servalan really really wanted Avon, almost as much as Tarrant did. 

The risks weren’t that high anyway. Zen would automatically plot a course in advance round anything large enough to appear on its extensive star charts so hitting a planet was almost impossible. As for small things, they were small, and Liberator was small, comparatively speaking, and two small things moving in a very large space were highly unlikely to collide. And the Gap, well, it would be interesting flying at least. 

Tarrant was fairly sure that when Servalan discovered that Blake was both alive and planning to remain that way it was quite plausible that she’d just have them both shot out of hand before they got anywhere near Avon. Set against that the relatively small risk of killing everyone on Liberator by flying a bit too fast seemed worth the gamble. It did mean that he couldn’t safely pay much attention to anything except what was on his screen. When Blake woke up he would have to retake Liberator on his own. 

Flying through the Gap at standard by thirteen was every bit as interesting as Tarrant had expected, but at least it didn’t go on for very long. As they closed on the signal from Avon’s ship Liberator decelerated until it was matching course and close enough to blow up the tiny racer with a single shot.

“Does he know we’re here?” Servalan demanded.

“Unless he’s asleep or unconscious, I imagine so.”

“Good. Zen, open communications. Avon, this is President Servalan. Surrender or be destroyed.”

“Subtle.” Tarrant commented. “I bet he didn’t see that coming.” He risked a quick look over as a very fuzzy image of a face appeared on the main screen. Only static came through the speakers.

“Hundred credits says that distortion’s faked. He’s playing for time.”

“A hundred credits?” The President of the Federation sounded amused.

“All right, make it a hundred and fifty. Not that I’m a gambling man, you understand.”

“I won’t take your bet, Del Tarrant. What do you propose that we do now?”

He shrugged. “If I’d had access to the weapons system he’d be space dust by now.”

“Not acceptable. I want him in one piece.”

You want Orac in one piece, he thought. Aloud he said “Teleport your troops over to bring him back.”

“And if he’s waiting for that?”

“Keep teleporting more over until he runs out of traps.” Tarrant suggested cheerfully. ”You’ve got plenty.” He’d got the impression of a good twenty or so soldiers milling around Liberator. Thinning out the crowd a bit wouldn’t hurt at all.

“I don’t think so.” She spoke to the flickering screen. “Well, Avon? Tarrant thinks you’re stalling. I think he’s right. A ship capable of doing what yours did shouldn’t have a problem with a simple thing like a comm link. You’ve got nowhere to run to, so what good will stalling do?”

The static continued. 

"We could try to put a shot into his engines, cripple the ship.” Tarrant said, trying to sound helpful. “Then we could grapple it into one of the holds. You’d have to give me control over weapons, though. The automatics aren’t reliable enough for disabling shots.”

Go on, he thought. Give me weapons, just one shot. I’d be almost as pleased to see Orac torn apart in burning fragments as its master.

She had paused, apparently thinking. “Captain!” she said. “Take four men and get Blake’s body from the med unit. Bring him up here, and don’t let him die on the way.,”

Shit. “What good will Blake do you?” Tarrant demanded. “He’s dying anyway.”

“He’s in a medically induced coma,” she retorted. “He was going to slip away without any discomfort. If you don’t do exactly what you’re told we we can make death a great deal more interesting for him."

The soldiers had left. Some sort of all hell was about to break loose when they got to the med room. Tarrant glanced around the flight deck. Servalan was well out of reach and at least five guns were trained on him, which left him only with the limited options at his pilot’s console. Those basically came down to shaking the ship up a bit with uncertain results or bolting. He waited.

It was only a couple of minutes before a soldier came running back, gasping out the news that the med unit was empty. 

“Zen!” Servalan demanded. “Where is Roj Blake?”

_That information is not available._

That was an unexpected relief. Tarrant had expected Zen to give away Blake’s position as soon as it was asked.

“You! Five men to remain here, the rest to search the ship. Find him! And secure the teleport room!” She stalked up to Tarrant’s console. “You knew about this?”

Tarrant shrugged. “Zen, confirm that Blake was unconscious when I left him in the med room.”

_Confirmed._

“They’ll find him.” she hissed. “He can’t have got far.” She wheeled to glare at the fuzzy image on the screen. “As for you...”

The picture on the screen abruptly sharpened. For a moment Tarrant thought the other ship’s cockpit was empty but then he saw the curve of a back and a familiar voice came across.

“That ought to do it...”

Blake rose up into view. “Hello Servalan. Can you see me now?”

She had taken a step back in surprise. “What are you doing there?”

“Fixing the comms unit. Avon pulled a wire out.” Blake looked past her, unsmiling. “Hello, Tarrant. I see you got where you wanted to be.”

“Where’s Avon?” Servalan demanded, a question that was also foremost in Tarrant’s mind. “And where's Orac?”

“Ah yes. I thought it was Orac you were after. Did you really think that you were going to walk away from this one with everything you wanted and all your enemies dead?”

“I have Liberator,” she said, “and I have Del Tarrant.”

“And they’re no earthly good to you as bargaining chips unless you are willing to trade them away. Will you really give me my ship and Tarrant back if I give you Orac?”

“Of course not. But I might give you Tarrant moreorless in one piece if you give up both Orac and Avon. If you don’t all three of you will die.”

Blake snorted. “You want Avon more than you want me? I find that positively insulting, or I would if I believed it. I don’t trade any of my friends away, Servalan.”

Servalan swept around in a grand gesture. “Zen, lock weapons on that ship and prepare to fire at my order! "

Tarrant still didn't have any good options but he needed to do something fast. "We'll have to catch up later. I love you," he said hurriedly to Blake, " Don't trust Avon an inch!" then “Zen, Alpha omega seven!”

_Alpha omega seven confirmed._

The comm screen went black and the weapons powered down. 

“Override that command!” Servalan said sharply.

_No override possible. Alpha omega seven now locked into ship’s navigation. Course to Hippolytus set at standard by four and executed._

“What have you done?” she demanded of Tarrant, but he kept silent. She’d figure it out soon enough.

Using the failsafe had been a desperate and desperately bad move but he’d had few options. Admittedly he’d stopped Liberator being able to fire but he’d also abandoned Blake to the perfidious Avon whilst leaving himself in Servalan’s clutches and without any allies. With the ship now doomed to crawl under her automatic systems at standard by four for weeks Servalan would soon realise that she had no need of a brilliant but untrustworthy pilot any more. 

Tarrant looked across at the tight fury in Servalan’s face and decided that he really was in trouble this time. Her troops had started to swarm back into the flight deck. It was just as well that the comms were out - Tarrant didn’t think that Blake really needed to see what was most likely to happen next. 

“I might be able to get Liberator to respond again,” he lied. Alpha omega seven had been a failsafe he’d inherited from Jenna Stannis and he had no idea how she’d prioritised it over Zen’s normal command responses. “Give me an hour or two to work on it.” 

“I don’t think so,” Servalan said. “I think your time is up, Del Tarrant. Tie him up and gag him with something . I don’t want him speaking to the ship again.”

It would have been rather amusing to watch Servalan getting absolutely nowhere arguing with Zen, in other circumstances. Tied up on the floor and with a strip of rough cloth from someone’s uniform stuffed in his mouth, Tarrant found that his normal easy humour had deserted him. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been relying on Blake to get them both out of the situation. Now Blake was with Avon and even if Avon permitted it there was nothing that the little racer could do against Liberator. Servalan had set guards over the teleporter; there was no coming back that way.

Hours went by, and more hours. Liberator continued on her slow immutable course. Servalan finally gave up on Zen and left the flight deck. Tarrant imagined that she’d gone for some sleep. Despite by now being uncomfortably and odorously damp as well as sore at both wrists and ankles and painfully thirsty, Tarrant slept for a while as well on the hard floor in the chill air, watched by the ever vigilant armed guards.


	9. Counting the Bodies

Tarrant had been woken by a rapid succession of heavy thuds to find his guards now sprawled on the floor. Twisting a little, he just managed to see the door closing. Whoever had shot his guards could at least have bothered to stay long enough to untie him, he thought, wriggling uncomfortably and very slowly towards the nearest body.

It took a good twenty minutes to find something on one of the guards that would cut through the ropes and another ten to actually free a hand, all the time expecting someone to come in and shoot him. Once he could pull the last ropes off he downed the half glass of wine left on the table, took a gun and a back up from the dead Federation troops and checked the corridors outside for lurking enemies. Satisfied that he had a few minutes at least, he pulled up an internal schema of Liberator’s current occupants from his console and studied it. 

There were still a rather disappointingly large number of live people aboard. On the plus side, none of them were coming his way right now. Maybe the officers who’d normally check up on his guards had been otherwise distracted, by someone loose with a gun, for instance. 

It had to be Avon. It couldn’t be Blake, however much Tarrant wanted to hope so. Servalan’s people had secured the teleport room before her conversation with Blake. Avon must already have been on Liberator, hiding out somewhere, waiting for... what?

“Zen,” Tarrant said, rather quietly, “Where is Kerr Avon?”

_That information is unavailable._

Either he wasn’t on board or he’d found a way to stop Zen answering awkward questions. Tarrant would have to see if he’d left a trail.

“Add all dead bodies currently on Liberator to the screen.” 

_Confirmed_

Markers representing seven dead bodies, including the four on the flight deck, was added to the seventeen live ones, all scattered between the teleport room and the crew quarters. Just three more dead in thirty minutes. Odd. Tarrant had got the distinct impression that Avon was a more effective killer than that. 

“Zen, where is Servalan?”

_President Servalan is in the cabin previously designated for the use of Roj Blake and Del Tarrant._

What an unpleasant thought. Nipping back for a shower wasn’t on then. There were two people in that cabin, according to the plan on the screen. Tarrant briefly considered asking Zen to describe the scene but he was pretty sure the computer’s comprehension of human behaviour was inadequate to the task. Still, it might be worth a try. “Zen, can you identify the exact location of the two people in my cabin with respect to the furniture?”

_President Servalan is on the bed. Information concerned Kerr Avon is currently unavailable._

Tarrant put his hands on his bare knees and sat back, smiling. “Oh, Avon, I’ve found a whopping great bug in your programming,” he said aloud. “And if you’re fucking Servalan on our bed I am so going to tell tales to Blake.” 

A few minutes later he was elbowing his way along a ceiling duct towards his bedroom. It was a tight fit but manageable, and better than trying to shoot his way through the corridors. Reaching the small vent, he peered down, concerned that he might have been heard.

The first thing he registered was the cold eyes of the man looking straight up at him while crouching naked on the bed he normally shared with Blake. For a second their eyes met. 

“Don't make any more noise. There are guards outside the door.” 

Tarrant looked past Avon to the body he crouched over. Servalan's dress was rucked up to her waist. Her eyes were open and motionless, her face contorted and there were red marks on her neck. 

Tarrant pushed the vent open and dropped lightly to the floor. The man was still disengaging from the body beneath him.

“It’s done.” Avon said. His skin was flushed as he sat back.

“You didn’t stop,” Tarrant said. 

“Of course not. I had to kill her.”

“Not that.” Tarrant walked over to look down on her face, the red marks around her neck. He felt sick. “Was she already dead by the time you’d done?”

“You’re easily shocked.” Avon said dismissively. 

“No,” Tarrant said. “No, I’m really not. I’m not shocked by you screwing her. I’m not shocked by you killing her. I just think that when you started killing her you should have stopped screwing her.”

He moved his hand to close her eyes, then paused. His fingers went down to the side of her neck. “There’s a pulse.”

Avon frowned. “That was you distracting me, I should have made sure.” He swung down to close his hands around her neck and Tarrant shoved him away, hard.

“She has to die,” Avon said. “That’s what all this was about.” 

“You’re not going to do it,” Tarrant said. “Not after that.” 

“Very well. You do it.”

Tarrant looked down at the unconscious woman. “No. We’ll tie her up with something for now. Had you any bright idea about dealing with all her minions or were you planning to have sex with them all as well?”

“Is there anyone else on board Liberator whose survival I should care about?” Avon asked dryly.

“No.” 

“That makes it easy. Zen, seal off this room and de-oxygenate the air in the rest of the ship.”

_Affirmative._

It took a fair while for Zen to murder the fifteen remaining Federation troops. Tarrant rearranged the dress of the still unconscious Servalan and tied her hands, then took a shower with the door open so that he could keep an eye on Avon, but the man merely waited to take his place in the shower when he was done. 

Tarrant looked up from bending over Servalan to see Avon returning. “She’s still unconscious.”

“If she hasn’t come round yet my guess is that she won’t. “ Avon said. “Convenient for your conscience.” 

“We need to get her into the med bay.”

“Why on earth should we want to do that?” Avon asked. He had walked over to his clothes and was dressing. 

“Blake will want her to stand trial,” Tarrant lied.

Avon snorted. “Blake raised plenty of objections to my plan to give her the ship temporarily, but to the bit where I killed her out of hand, none.”

“You didn’t tell him how you were going to do it, though.”

“That again? Who would have thought the author of the Saturn massacre would be so squeamish about a single aptly-deserved death?” 

_The atmosphere in Liberator now matches all standard parameters._

“Good. “ Tarrant said. “I’m taking her to the med unit.” His hand briefly patted the gun at his side.

“Suit yourself.” Avon said. “I doubt that Blake will be grateful for your little love token though. Make sure you put her in stasis. That med unit has provided enough unexpected awakenings for one trip.” 

By the time Tarrant had made his way back to the flight deck a flotilla of Liberator’s little robots had come scuttling out to pull the dead bodies towards the nearest airlock. Avon was frowning at his console.

“What have you done to this navigation system?”

“It’s running Alpha Omega Seven. That’s a...”

“I know what it is. Why haven’t you turned it off?”

“Because I don’t know how.” Tarrant said, trying to keep the defensive tone from his voice.

“Ah.” Avon tapped at his console for a few seconds.

_Awaiting course instruction._ Zen said. 

“Next time you go missing leave an instruction manual,” Tarrant said. “Zen, can we contact Blake?”

 

“You two still haven’t made it up!” Blake sounded rather exasperated as he walked onto the flight deck. He’d stopped off at their cabin to pick up some clothes first, since then there wasn’t any immediate rush any more.

“If we hadn’t caught up with him then Avon would be on the other side of the Galaxy with Orac by now,” Tarrant said. 

“Well, but you did catch up with me didn’t you?” Avon sounded smug. “Servalan is defeated and the Liberator returned intact, precisely as promised.”

“Is she dead?”

Avon shook his head. “Not quite. In addition to his many other defects your toyboy turns out to be inappropriately sentimental.”

“Tarrant?” Blake was frowning at him.

“She’s in stasis in the med unit. Execute her if you like, I don’t care a jot.” Tarrant glared over at Avon. “I thought we might ask her what Avon’s really been up to for the last few months first though.”

Avon snorted, “You think I’m inclined to unrestrained pillow talk? She knows exactly what I wanted her to know, nothing more.”

Blake had raised an eyebrow at that. “Pillow talk?”

“I was hardly going to be able to ask her to kindly step away from her guards for ten minutes to play a game of chess, was I?” Avon said. “Why do you think it took so long to set this thing up? I had to be absolutely sure that I could entice her off Liberator’s flight deck at the right moment.”

“That wasn’t the first time, though,” Tarrant said. “Once you were in her bed you could have murdered her at any time. You didn’t need Liberator.”

Avon glanced at him. “Wherever Servalan is there are always guards, lots of them. There was never a situation where I could just kill the President of the Federation and walk away. I knew that if could get her aboard Liberator while it was empty of crew then I could use Zen to take out everyone outside the bedroom. It couldn’t be done anywhere else.” He looked back to Blake. “Taking Liberator wasn’t a whim. I needed it.” 

“They were using our bed!” Tarrant protested.

“I wondered why half the sheets were on the floor.” Blake said. “They can be changed.”

His calm seemed utterly inappropriate. “You don’t know how he did it,” Tarrant said. “I do. I saw them. I saw...” He paused. Now that it came to it he felt reluctant to describe what he’d seen. It had to be done though.

Avon laughed. “What Tarrant is hesitating to soil your delicate ears with is the ongoing physiological reaction that he thinks I should have made more effort to suppress. I had other things on my mind at the time, like keeping her from calling out for her guards or raking my eyes out.”

Blake looked between them and sighed. "Keep her in stasis for now. Tarrant, we're heading back to Hippolytus for the others but you need rest. Can the ship handle the navigation for a few hours?”

“Not in the Gap, no. I can stay on shift for a bit longer.” 

That raised Blake's first smile of the conversation. It wasn't exactly loving but it was something. “No you can't, Del. You look dead on your feet.” 

"I can do it, with Orac, " Avon said. 'I got out here in one piece after all."

“You really think I'm going to sleep with him at the controls?” Tarrant appealed to Blake. “I'll stay awake.” 

The smile had gone. “Avon, you have navigation. Don't do anything dangerous. We’re not in that much of a hurry. Tarrant come with me.” Blake set off without checking that Tarrant was following. 

Tarrant had hesitated, highly reluctant to leave Avon alone at the helm, but if Blake wasn't there he couldn't be argued with. He caught Blake up as they came up to the door to their quarters. 

"He really can't be trusted with anything. What are we doing here?"

Blake tugged the remaining sheets off their bed and sat down on the bare mattress. “I know how tired you are. I can only imagine what a rough time you’ve had. I’m sorry that we have to do this now, but it seems that we do.” 

“Do what, exactly?”Tarrant remained standing in the middle of the room.

“Avon’s delivered precisely what he said he would and kept us alive in the process. I know you don’t like his methods but they worked, when none of ours have.”

“So you’re going to give him a medal. The Order of Revolutionary Sexual Violence, maybe?”

“No, but I am going to ask him to stay on Liberator. If necessary I'll beg.”

“No.” Tarrant said, definitely. “Not acceptable. And if I told you I wouldn’t tolerate it? What would you do then?”

Blake spoke very carefully, his eyes on Tarrant's face. “Then I would have to ask you to leave.”

It hit Tarrant like a punch to the gut. For a moment he couldn’t say anything. Then he started to walk round the room, furiously pulling things randomly from storage and throwing them on the bed.

“You’ll need my stuff out of here. Are you going to ask him to move straight in or are you going to wait a week or so for decency’s sake?”

“I knew you’d take it this way,” Blake said heavily. “I’m not breaking up with you. I’m not throwing you out. I don’t want you to go anywhere. I just need Avon on board.”

“More than you need me?”

“Professionally, yes.” Blake said. “Not personally. But I can’t give up what Avon could mean for the revolution just because of what you mean for me.”

“What heroic sacrifices you make. Lucky that you’ll still have a shoulder to cry on when you’ve dumped me somewhere and your bed’s cold.” 

“Just work with him, Del. That’s all I’m asking.”

“He betrayed you, Blake! He sold your ship to Servalan and ran, leaving us to suffocate to death! How am I meant to turn my back on him after that?”

“It really doesn’t matter.” Blake insisted. “I’m sure that Avon, being Avon, had plotted a dozen possible outcomes. Some of them probably involved him ending up with Orac and a great deal of money while we were left fighting to recover Liberator or even dead. The point is that his plans also involved the scenario where he succeeds and kills Servalan and all her guards and we all survive with Liberator intact and ours again. He planned that from the start, Del. It wasn’t an accident. He risked a great deal for this. I’m not going to condemn him for also having contingency plans that kept his skin intact.”

“It would have been Avon rich and us dead if I hadn’t taken Liberator after him. Something which you were against, remember?”

“Yes.” Blake said. “But you did it anyway. I need people who can do what you both did. I need you both.”

“But if you can only have one of us, it’s him.” 

“He’ll work with you. You won’t with him. You’re not leaving me a fair choice, Del. I won’t kick him off what's been his place from the start just because my boyfriend doesn’t like him.”

“I don’t dislike him.” Tarrant said. “I dislike Vila, and I work with him just fine. I despise and distrust Avon. I think he’s greedy, dishonest, selfish, cruel and he’s going to get everyone on Liberator killed. I would say that I think he’s going to do his best to deliberately come between us out of jealous and spite but he’s apparently done that already.” 

He gathered up the stuff he’d thrown onto the bed. “If he stays then I stay. Someone needs to watch out for you. I’ll move back to my old room.” 

“You don’t need to do that.” Blake said. 

“You think we’re going to cuddle up together in the evening and discuss how well Avon is settling in? Sorry.” He had ended up with a teetering heap of clothes and bits of paper in his arms. “I’ll get that nap. Wake me when you need a pilot again.”


	10. Full Circle

Servalan’s hands went straight to her smooth, unmarked neck as she looked up at Tarrant from the med unit’s couch.

“I’m sorry that I can’t offer you any privacy to dress but that would be stupid,” he said.

“Where’s Avon?” She was sitting up now. Her clothes were in plain view but she seemed more concerned with the answer to her question. 

“Asleep, or so we’d better hope.” Tarrant said lightly.

She swung herself off the med unit and started to dress. “Blake?”

“The same.” 

“Zen, where is Liberator?”

“I’ve erased your voiceprint, obviously.” Tarrant said. “It would definitely be best for both of us if you hurry. This way.”

At the teleport bay she eyed the large capsule with suspicion. “What is that?”

“Your future. It has everything you need to survive. Zen’s done a scan of the planet, it’s on a data pad in there. No large predators, you’ll be pleased to hear.”

“And humans?”

Tarrant shook his head. “We’re still deep in the Gap. The system’s never been settled.”

“You intend to maroon me.”

“Yes.”

“And if I’d rather take my chances with Blake?”

Tarrant shook his head. “Don’t be naive. That’s not the chance you’d be taking. Next time Avon is alone on shift there will be an unfortunate malfunction in the med unit. Avon might pretend to accept that Blake’s in charge now but he won’t let you live.”

“No,” she said. “And what’s in it for you? I imagine Blake is not going to be pleased.”

“Nothing that I do pleases Blake at the moment,” Tarrant said. “I might as well upset him doing something halfway decent for a change.”

“You won’t leave me here for long,” Servalan said confidently. “You’ll come back, because anything else would be inhuman and you’re not that sort of man. I’ll be waiting for you, Del Tarrant.” She stepped onto the teleport bay and tightened the bracelet around her wrist. The teleport hummed and she was gone.

“Zen, erase all records from the med bay, corridors and teleport bay for the last three hours,and erase all recent teleport records. Return to previous course and erase all nav records pertaining to the diversion to this planet.”

_Confirmed._

It was done. He’d expected her to protest far more but the feel of Avon’s hands choking the life out of her must be still vivid and she would know that Blake’s mercy was likely to run to no more than a trial before a swift execution. 

She’d misread Tarrant’s motives, of course. He hadn’t saved her because he was a kind man. He’d saved her because he was becoming an increasingly vindictive one. Avon would know why he’d done it. Blake would. Only Servalan would lie awake at night, utterly alone, and think that somewhere out there among the stars was a young man who was so moved by her beauty and her distress as to defy his captain and his crewmates to save her. How could a man like that not come back for her? 

Servalan had intended to torture his dying lover in front of him. Tarrant walked back up to the flight deck, trying to figure out the best form of words to break the news to Blake once the planet was safely lost behind them.

 

“You left her where?”

“I’ve forgotten.” Tarrant said cheerfully. “And so has Zen. I do remember that it was entirely uninhabited and she hasn’t got any form of communication device so no-one is ever going to find her again.” 

“You must have known that her fate wasn’t your call to make. Why did you do it, Del?”

“I thought I’d save you the trouble of deciding what to do with her. You’ve got a lot on your mind.” 

Blake glared at him. “All right. We both know why you did it. When I said that I expected you to work with him this is obviously not what I meant.”

“He’d have murdered her,” Tarrant said. 

“And you let her go.”

“I’ve doomed her to a life of struggle and complete isolation. She’ll probably not survive the first six months. However long she lives she’d never get to manipulate or harm another living soul. Letting Avon strangle her would probably have been kinder.”

Blake stood up, hands on his hips. “One last chance, Del. Tell me where she is.”

“No.”

“Then you are suspended from your position as Liberator crew. You’re barred from the flight deck and teleport room until we get to Hippolytus. Then I’ll talk to the others and decide what to do about you. ”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Tarrant was startled. He hadn’t expected anything like this. “You know no-one’s more loyal to you than me!”

“No, you’re not. Your obsession with Avon has become more important to you than everything I’m working for. Servalan is the most dangerous person in the galaxy and you think that hiding her somewhere is just a way to annoy him.” 

Tarrant stared at him. He’d behaved pretty responsibly, he thought. Servalan was secure. Blake wasn’t meant to take it like this. “All right then. I’ll tell you, if you promise not to tell him.”

“No,” Blake said. “I’m not letting you play this game any longer. Make your peace with Avon and tell him where Servalan is. Then I’ll reconsider.”

 

Avon was finishing a meal as Tarrant slunk into the galley some time later. They looked at each other. 

“I’m supposed to make peace with you,” Tarrant said.

“So I heard. Or you’ll get slung off the ship. That would be a shame.” Avon took another couple of bites. “Tell me exactly where you left Servalan and I’ll consider telling Blake what you need him to hear.” 

“If you’re just going to screw me over anyway I ‘ll be damned if I tell you.” Tarrant said bitterly. 

Avon pushed his plate away. “If I’d wanted to be rid of you I wouldn’t have shot your guards. I have far more invested in Servalan’s fate than I have in continuing this feud of yours. We need a pilot and you seem to be considerably more competent at that than you are at anything else. I’ve no reason to screw you over. You don’t make my list of enemies.” 

“But you don’t want me sleeping with your Blake.”

Avon snorted. “I’ve just spent months telling Servalan how irresistible she is. Sweettalking another egomaniac into bed is not my idea of a good time. Blake’s all yours, if you can keep him.” 

Tarrant sat on the edge of the table and picked at the nicer bits of the discarded food. “Now you want something you’re obliging? She’s not going anywhere, you know. You could just leave her to die alone.”

“Some time soon,” Avon’s voice was matter of fact, “you’ll be too slow or too unlucky or too heroic and the Federation will capture you. And very soon after that, after the drugs and the probes and the torture, they will know everything that you know.”

He whisked the plate out from Tarrant’s fingers and dumped it and the contents in the garbage.. “The only ways to prevent Servalan being rescued are either to ensure that no-one alive knows where she is or to have you tell me so that I can kill her. Since Liberator still needs a pilot and I’m guessing Blake is still fond of you, albeit probably less than he was, I though I’d try the second option first.”

It was a point that he really hadn’t thought of. Tarrant knew from his time in the Fed military that holding out against interrogation wasn’t something you could do by will alone. If they caught him then eventually he would break. 

Even so the idea of just handing Servalan over to her would-be murderer sickened him. He couldn’t persuade Avon not to kill her until he knew why he was so keen on doing it in the first place.

“Why is her death so important to you? And don’t tell me it’s none of my business. If I’m going to be your accomplice I’m going to need to know why.”

Avon frowned at him. “I suppose I must tell you. After I was arrested on Earth I found out that my... that a woman who had worked with me had died under interrogation. “

Tarrant nodded. “I see.”

Avon gave him a withering look. “You don’t see anything at all. I didn’t hold Servalan responsible. She didn’t create the corruption or cruelty in the system, she merely exploited it.”

He turned his coffee mug around in his hands, watching it. “Though Servalan didn’t kill Anna, someone had to have bloody hands. When I found myself unexpectedly free of Blake’s little cult I thought I’d find out who did, and kill them.”

“And you found out that she was responsible after all.” Tarrant said.

“I’d let you tell this story if you had the faintest idea of how it goes.” Avon snapped. “No, Servalan did not cause Anna’s death. No-one did. Anna hadn’t died. Anna hadn’t even been interrogated. Anna was in fact alive and well.”

There was a silence. “Oh.” Tarrant said. “Er- good?”

“Wrong again.”

Avon didn’t seem inclined to just go on. Tarrant thought about the possible reasons why finding out someone you cared about hadn’t been tortured to death was a bad thing and came up with nothing. 

No more guesses. “Why wasn’t it good?”

“Simple. She was never arrested, never interrogated, never murdered because she had been Servalan’s agent all along.” Avon dropped the mug onto the table hard enough that it spun off sideways and the dregs of the coffee spilt on the floor. Neither of them moved to pick it up.

“So that’s why you hate Servalan?” Tarrant said, carefully.

Avon shook his head. “I was planning to wreck the entire banking system for personal gain. It was hardly unreasonable for the State to go to some lengths to stop me. Planting a spy, while personally rather distressing, wasn’t inherently immoral.”

“So what is the answer?”

“All the times our paths crossed and Servalan let me go on thinking she was dead. And when I finally confronted her with it she laughed. That laugh,” Avon said in a lighter tone, “is what I intend to hold the President of the Federation accountable for. Which system, Tarrant?”

The snapped question caught Tarrant off guard. How could he refuse Avon after that? “Sigma Tau Three, the third planet out”

“Co-ordinates?” Avon had already started towards the door.

“185.55 degrees east, 130.22 north. I’m sorry about your friend.” Tarrant said.

“Servalan will be a great deal sorrier.” 

“You will tell Blake that I told you?”

A brief cough or possibly snort came floating back from the empty doorway. 

 

By the time Tarrant reached the flight deck they were arguing again.

“Servalan will wait. Tarrant’s not an idiot. He won’t have left her any means to escape, and if she falls down a cliff and breaks her neck I really don’t care. Recovering our people from Hippolytus is the priority.” Blake’s voice already had a harsh edge.

Avon waved the idea away with an irritated hand. “Hippolytus is perfectly safe.”

“Safe like Rigel 6 was safe? I nearly died down on your last pick for a safe planet!” 

“That was Orac’s idea of a joke, “Avon said. “I checked Hippolytus out personally. Their culture holds hospitality as its primary moral requirement. The only danger would be to Vila’s waistline if he eats too much.” He was tapping at his console. “Ten hours to Sigma Tau Three, that’s all. That means a delay of less than a day in reaching Hippolytus. If we have to get your crew first it could take a week to get back. Do you really want to leave her unguarded for a week?”

“It’s not Servalan that concerns me right now, it’s my crew. I won’t leave them for a day longer than I have to,” Blake insisted.

“There is an alternative,” Tarrant said, from the doorway. “Am I allowed to come in?”

“What alternative?” Blake was frowning at him. Tarrant wondered if he’d ever stop doing that. 

“The racer that Avon used for his heroic attempt at running away with the money and leaving us all to die is still in the hold. It might not get to ST3 in ten hours but it will take a hell of a lot less than a week,while Liberator can fly straight to Hippolytus.” 

“That might work,” Blake said.

“The racer’s got no armaments,” Avon protested.

“You’re going after one unarmed woman. If you’re worried about her overpowering you take a handgun,” Tarrant said.

Avon gave him a cold look. “I’ll need Orac for the Gap navigation.”

“Can’t you go a bit slower and manage without it?” Blake’s frown had deepened. “I’m not happy about letting it off Liberator.” 

“I think we’re going to have to,” Tarrant said. “If he’s going to go, I imagine he’ll insist on taking Orac along.”

Avon shot him a sharp glance and he flickered a smile back. 

“All right,” Blake said. “Liberator will come back this way when we’re done; you can meet us here in seven days. Is the tracer still in your ship?”

“Yes.”

“Then we shouldn’t have any trouble with a rendezvous. Do you need anything else from us, Avon?”

“Just Orac and that gun,” Avon said. He glanced over at Tarrant. “Unless you’d like to come along for the ride?”

Tarrant wondered what Avon would say if he said yes. Both of them knew that wasn’t going to happen. “The ride’s not the problem. It’s what you intend to do at the other end that I’d rather not dirty my hands with.”

“There would be a lot of people on Saturn surprised to find you so soft hearted.” Avon’s voice didn’t have the usual acid, though. He seemed eager to be off on his hunt. “I’ll be ready to leave within half an hour.” 

Alone, Blake smiled approvingly at him. “Good thinking, thanks. I know you aren’t happy about him going after Servalan.”

“I’m a lot happier now he’s taking the racer. I’d guess he intended to use Liberator to bombard the planet surface from orbit. I doubt that Servalan can keep ahead of one man with a gun but at least it feels a bit less like slaughter this way.” Tarrant paused. “Did you ask Avon to stay on Liberator?”

This time the smile was wry. “He reminded me that I’d promised the ship would be his, and he intended to hang around until my conscience finally got the better of me. Is that going to be a problem, Del?”

“No,” Tarrant said, with a fair degree of confidence. “No, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem at all.”

 

“The tracer’s no longer transmitting,” Cally said. “According to Zen it stopped less than a day after Avon left.”

Blake frowned at the screen showing nothing but the swirls of the Gap. “Well, there’s still a few hours left till the rendezvous, I suppose. We’ll stay here another two shifts. If he hasn’t turned up we’ll go to Sigma Tau Three after him. 

“Blake...” Tarrant started cautiously. 

“No arguing, Tarrant. That’s what were going to do. It will give everyone a chance to catch up on some rest anyway. Out here nothing much is going to bother us.” 

Several hours later Tarrant knocked on the door of what was now solely Blake’s cabin.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.” 

Things had been better between them in the last few days. Blake seemed to think that Tarrant had made a genuine attempt to break the impasse with Avon and his unauthorised disposition of Servalan seemed forgiven. Still, Tarrant knew that there was one more hurdle to get over before everything could be put all right between them and he couldn’t put it off any longer. 

“Rested?” he asked. 

“I got some sleep. I’m worried about Avon though. There should be some sign of him by now. Servalan might have got the jump on him somehow. Maybe I should have sent you with him. ” 

Tarrant decided that this had definitely gone on long enough. He sat down on the bed. “Did you ever find out how much Servalan paid Avon to betray Liberator?”

“No. But I saw into the racer’s hold and it was crammed full of loot of various sorts. It must have been a huge amount. Why?”

“Did any of it get transferred to Liberator?”

“I don’t think there was time. What has this to do with him being missing?” Blake demanded.

Tarrant took a deep breath. “You should probably stop thinking in terms of Avon being missing. It would be more accurate to say that Avon has chosen to be somewhere else, along with a very fast ship, a king’s ransom in valuables and Orac.”

There was a brief silence. 

“He’s taken Orac?” Blake sounded stunned.

“Please tell me you’re not surprised.”

“You knew he wouldn’t come back?” Blake demanded?

Tarrant picked his words carefully. “I knew nothing definite about his intentions but I would have been moderately astonished if he had,”

Blake shook his head, clearly building up to a temper. “You let him...you encouraged him to take Orac!”

“I’ve never liked that thing much,” Tarrant said. “We’ll get by without it.” 

“You should have warned me!”

“And would you have listened, or would you just say I was slandering him again? Tarrant reached out a hand to the pacing Blake but it was brushed off. “ If Kerr Avon were the loyal friend you took him for he would have come back and I would have gritted my teeth and worked with him somehow for your sake. But it turns out that he was the opportunist I took him for instead, and all three of us are better off this way. Orac’s a small price to pay for an amicable divorce from someone you still love but can’t live with, Blake. Let Avon have it for now.”

“An amicable divorce?” Blake snapped. “This feels like a conspiracy, Del.”

“It really isn’t. I didn’t do anything at all, not a word, not a gesture, to persuade him not to come back. It was all his decision.” Tarrant waved a hand in the general direction of Space, which wasn’t hard to do on a spaceship. “Now that you know he prefers to be out there, would you really want him to have stayed around just waiting for the opportunity to run?”

“Yes!” Blake nearly shouted. “Yes of course I wanted him to stay. I don’t care about his reasons! I missed him so much in the last few months, Del. And now I have to do it all over again.” 

“I’m sorry.” Tarrant said, with a fair amount of sincerity now the thing that he was meant to be sorry about couldn’t be fixed. “He did rescue me from Servalan’s troops, more or less, and that med unit readout trick kept you from her clutches. I guess we’ve a fair amount to thank him for.”

“Servalan!” Blake said abruptly. “Do you think Avon even went to Sigma Tau Three?”

“I’d lay odds that he did. He wouldn’t have wanted Servalan as a loose thread dangling behind him.” 

 

They checked anyway. The third planet of the Sigma Tau Three system was a world of endlessly rolling hills. Very occasionally the rustle of something small disturbed the low vegetation that grew uniformly across the slopes and according to Zen’s survey there were fish in the shallow, clear rivers but Tarrant saw none as he forded the knee high waters. The waters ran down to a still, saltless sea and were presumably fed by the constant drizzle from the overcast sky. 

“Soulless place,” Blake commented. Tarrant could see what he meant. Nothing here would kill you quickly but he couldn’t imagine anyone staying sane on these bland, featureless slopes for long. Maybe he thought with a twinge of guilt, telling Avon where to find Servalan had been for the best. 

They’d searched the local area and found nothing but the opened capsule. When Tarrant belatedly thought to ask Zen for a scan for human life it reported only themselves. 

“There’s a shallow grave somewhere, no doubt,” Tarrant said confidently to Blake. “We could search for weeks and not stumble over it.” Privately he thought there might be at least a small amount of doubt about the matter. The story of Anna’s betrayal had been nagging at him. Had it been disclosed a little too readily, a little too perfectly honed to tug at Tarrant’s sympathies? Was Kerr Avon still keeping multiple options open?

He saw no need to trouble Blake with his doubts. Avon was gone and if Blake still thought better of him than the man deserved it no longer mattered. 

“There’s nothing else here,” Blake agreed. “We’ll take the capsule back up with us.” 

If Servalan’s body were here it would be the only remaining trace of Earth on the planet, Tarrant thought. He didn’t share that with Blake either. 

 

"I brought you this," Tarrant held out the small bottle, saw with inward relief Blakes's genuine smile as he took it. When the man had asked him to drop by after his shift Tarrant hadn't been entirely sure what his intentions had been. A couple of months ago spending time together had been easy and automatic but a lot had happened since them. A gift seemed like a good way to indicate what sort of evening Tarrant might be hoping for. 

Liberator's crew tended to own next to nothing personally and their funds were kept in common so the digging out from Liberator's huge and poorly catalogued stores of something particularly desirable had become the accepted method of gift giving. Tarrant has browsed through hundreds of different bottles that afternoon and settled on a famous dark spirit produced on one of the Centauri colonies that he recalled drinking once after dinner at his family home. He'd nearly choked on it as he remembered but Blake liked strong flavours. 

Opening the bottle and finding some glasses and in Tarrant’s case something to water it down occupied a few sociable minutes. Tarrant settled down on one end of the sofa and was mildly disappointed when Blake took the armchair. Still the alcohol seemed to be very well received. They got through several glasses talking about nothing in particular until finally Blake put his glass down. 

“We got an untraceable tight beam message while you were off shift.”

Not this game again, Tarrant thought. “What did he say?”

“There was no personal message. I’m not even certain that Avon had a hand in sending it. It was the results of a search I’d set Orac to running before we lost it.”

Tarrant took another sip from his glass. “And?”

“The families of the Saturn miners were resettled shortly after the riot incident, standard Federation policy when they don’t want something talked about. They are on Parietal, in the Polaris sector. It’s officially a Fed pioneer planet rather than a penal colony but conditions are basic, the mortality rate is high and very few of the pioneers are volunteers.”

Tarrant stared at him, shocked. Since everyone directly involved in the incident had died he’d never thought to follow up on consequences. “I have to do something for them. It’s my fault that they are there.”

“Of course you must, and we’ll be with you all the way But when you come up with a plan talk to me about it first this time, please.”

Tarrant nodded. “Thank you.” he said, sincerely. He had been right when he told Avon that Blake believed in redemption, but naturally Blake would consider the concept in practical terms. 

“You don’t need to plan anything tonight,” Blake said with a smile. “Would you like another glass?”

“No thanks. I should probably leave, if I’m leaving.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“Not in the slightest. But if you’re going to kick me out in another hour’s time I’ll be no happier to go then than I am now, just drunker.”

“I didn’t intend to kick you out, now or later,” Blake said.

“Oh. Good. In that case...” He crossed the room to straddle Blake’s lap for a long kiss.

 

After sex they sprawled together on the bed, content and silent. Eventually Tarrant propped himself up to look down on Blake’s face.

“I’m not a pet, fluffy or otherwise. I’m not a hanger on, or an admirer, or a substitute for someone else.”

“Of course not,” Blake agreed comfortably without opening his eyes. “You shouldn’t take any notice of gossip. Be whatever you want to be.”

“I want to be your husband.”

Blake’s eyelids snapped open. “That’s a bit sudden.”

“Proposals are usually sudden. It’s how they work. Well?”

Blake considered him for a moment or two. “No.” 

“Oh.” Tarrant rolled onto his back, acutely disappointed.

“Ask me again in six months’ time, if you still want to.”

“So what will change in six months?” Tarrant asked, trying not to sound sulky.

“In six months’ time there’s a chance that I might be the one in your thoughts when you ask. You were imagining how he’d receive the news, weren’t you?”

“I can think about two things at once,” Tarrant said, a little defensively.

“Not when you’re proposing marriage, you can’t. I’m not going to marry you because you think it will annoy Avon, Del. Six months and I might consider it. Now go to sleep.”

Blake rolled over and apparently dropped straight off to sleep. Tarrant lay watching him for a few minutes. It had been a stupid thing to ask, this soon after their reconciliation and half drunk, but he hadn’t got a ‘not a chance’ back again so maybe it hadn’t been a disaster. 

Tarrant wondered what Avon was doing now. Turning his vast wealth into even vaster wealth with Orac’s help, no doubt. Well, good luck to him, as long as he did it well away from Liberator. He reached out and hooked an arm over Blake’s warm body as he closed his eyes, the spirits still warming his blood. Half a year wasn’t so long, after all.

The End


End file.
